I'm not a child.

I've made my peace with time

But more and more I find

still fresh in my mind.

Visions and thoughts

slip into my dreams at night

When darkness comes to life

With memories of delight.

My first love almost seems to be part of me

I smell her hair

I feel her touch

My first love is more than a memory

The woman here beside me

Might be hurt to know

The girl that comes and goes

Late at night when eyes are closed.

Years have passed

Since she said she'd be my wife.

Is she laying here beside me

Dreaming about a young girl's nights?

My first love almost seems to be part of me

I smell her hair

I feel her touch

My first love is more than a memory.