A kiss in the pouring rain,
then maybe once or twice in a field of flowers that smell like the sun.
Us swinging, hand in hand, on swings,
with the seats made of a board of wood isolated from the rest of the park.
Holding on to each other,
just because we can and it feels so right to be there and no place else.

A sweet old school romance.

Where the butterflies never disappear,
they stay and always come back with a new set of beautiful wings.
A connection so strong between us,
it’ll be ever so impossible to disserve the golden bond.
Whispers of sweet, promising nothings,
explaining our feelings in better ways than touching.

The sweet old school romance.

Shoulders brushing just so slightly,
when we always walk side by side where ever we decide to go.
Dancing slowly and closely,
while you trade in your loud music for my soft type during the perfect dance.
Being given flowers of all the colors on a rainbow,
just because it’s a reminder that says “I love you” , three words always meant.

My sweet old school romance.

I wouldn’t trade it in for the world.
I wouldn’t give it up for all the seas.
I wouldn’t never let go of you,
you’ve became apart of me.

Our sweet old school romance.