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"My Old Dutch"

The mantle clock rings the quarter hour

They sit by the fire place

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in easy chairs

Just two.

His voice is soft

Just enough for her to hear

He sings an old, old song

skipping words

humming now and then

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A song that's been their own

since courtship days

"My Old Dutch"

He sings to her, his Old Sweetheart.

In her mind she smiles to him

Scenes turn over gently

tumbling her pleasures.

He sings softly

her tears collect.

The loving is enough for now

Their song brings everything.