She

The book has grown old, 

They both stand in the doorway, full grown,

She has strands of radiant grey, that she refuses to let stay,

If I don't notice, she lets me know,

What I have seen and done, no longer haunts or shows, it seems I've won...

She loved me equally,

They have matured beautifully,

What awaits me?

I think I've seen, it was She,

Who I adore completely,

She was right, it was meant to be.