Let It Grow Old

The touch of a smile,
To my face,
The whole need,
To inner trace,
The thing we share,
And the hope we hold,
Of keeping to the time,
And making this old.

On with bright stars,
and sweet sharing dreams,
To holding our own 'till the end,
As well as having some easy screams.

We'll battle it out,
and have our fun,
We'll hold our own through
The night,
And the sun.