Unfortunate lover, your arrival came late. My winter approaches and there's no time to wait. Had you been fortunate, sweet love of mine, you would have loved me in an earlier time. It doesn't seem fair, my youth never seen. You should have been there, to love me long, tan and lean. Still you're unmindful, as kisses land sweet, upon deepened laugh lines and tracks of crow's feet. Winter can't be all bad within your embrace; your loving softens time's signs on my face.