Brown leather and worn edges, with a proud Aggie stamp,
A pair of boots rested against an old wooden ramp.
,
These boots bore their time like a fine Irish wine,
Dusted and aged, but always ready to shine.
,
The lines, the creases, such a story they did tell,
Of dancing and living, like a Christmas noel.
,
Now rest these old boots did, off set to the side,
Standing at attention, two brown leather brides.
,
For what is life, but a pair of old boots?
Worn but living, never changing her roots.
_
Written by: AuthorWiz
Written on: March 26th, 2018
Inspired by: Love (Poem I wrote when I was in love.)