A touching piece of work. You must be female, too. (oops, there I go getting into trouble sterotyping again). I say that because it seems much rarer for a man to accept his aging mate than a woman does. Not sure if you posted it for critiquing, but if you have read through here a bit, you must be expecting SOMETHING of that nature to occur. Also, you will have read that I am not a writer or a poet. I just offer the feelings of a reader. I don't even know the proper definition of a sonnet....hehe. So, take my remarks with a "grain of salt." Line 4,5, and 6...I wonder if "and" is too repetitious. Maybe... And the days grew cold, the hour late. I grew fat and my hair grew thin; And I saw less as my vision dimmed. I'm also having a problem with the last line. It seems to me, part of the truth is also what she is inside. The way you say it, it seems (to me) you are saying her age is her truth but that you see beyond that. I could be wrong, though...hehe I have sat here and tried to come up with an alternate last two lines. For one reason, I (personally) love endings that "mirror" the beginning. I haven't been able to think of anything that fits well, but to me, it sure would see to be a nice touch if it could end something like this: And she's the one, though old and grey, I remember from that Summer's day. It departs a bit from what you were trying to say, so I apologize. Thanks for posting. It was very tender. I hope my remarks are helpful.