In golden hue, the sun does rise,
A color rare, that fills the skies.
Amber, radiant, it paints the morn,
A shade of hope, where love is born.
Two men, entwined in tender grace,
A love that time cannot erase.
Their souls, like doves, in flight they soar,
Bound by a love they can’t ignore.
An owl, wise and watchful, near,
Silent witness, their love sincere.
With feathers dark, it takes its flight,
Guiding love through darkest night.
A silver goblet, gleaming bright,
Reflects their love, a beacon’s light.
Its curves, like love, forever true,
A vessel for their love to brew.
Through trials faced, their love prevails,
A bond unbroken, like the sails.
For love, like colors, knows no bounds,
It weaves its magic, love surrounds.
So let the world, with judgment’s eye,
Behold their love, and wonder why.
For love, like colors, knows no shame,
And love, like men, deserves no blame.
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