63 years, iron filings

Or,
On meeting a man in the pub
We stood there together in front of the crowd
And promised each other our lives and ourselves
Your hand on my back
Me holding you tight
Not daring to look straight
To stare at the light

That image is burnt now
It’s seared on my soul
It’s what I go back to when I feel alone
That day we set compass : we found our True North

So how change your course after 63 years
And u turn to South when your partner heads there
Magnetically swinging, unhinged, filings flung
True north becomes false
All your bearings are wrong

I love you, I’ve loved you
That will be enough
I’ll find you, not lose you
And head for True North

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