ramblings and things
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Mrs B said .
Mrs B said I don't write love poems nowadays
At least not for along time, maybe not any more.
It could that contentment has been creeping up
Or I don't have that much energy anymore;
Or maybe love these days is a cuddle
Enfolded in loving gentle arms.
Two naked bodies at peace each with each
Each enjoying freely given charms.
As a teenager it would have been all a rush
Over before being properly begun:
Getting on for the thirties
Maybe more languid fun:
Forties and fifties??
Finding the time, making the attempt
Sometimes, maybe, often
Familiarity breeding contempt.
But love at sixty
Once you are there
Can be a cuddle
In an old armchair.
Long slow hours
Each pleasing caring
No selfish moves
Just intimate sharing.
The pleasures of watching
A loved and known face
Exploding with pleasure
In intimate embrace.
The passions of youth
I'll give them a miss
For the hours long
Building of a kiss.
Love at sixty is slow
Caring mutual joy,
Man and woman remembering,
Never envying, girl and a boy.
You've got to be there,
To have reached that stage,
To appreciate the love
Of the more mature age.
Remember, experiment, always be bold
nobody is ever, ever too old
At least not for along time, maybe not any more.
It could that contentment has been creeping up
Or I don't have that much energy anymore;
Or maybe love these days is a cuddle
Enfolded in loving gentle arms.
Two naked bodies at peace each with each
Each enjoying freely given charms.
As a teenager it would have been all a rush
Over before being properly begun:
Getting on for the thirties
Maybe more languid fun:
Forties and fifties??
Finding the time, making the attempt
Sometimes, maybe, often
Familiarity breeding contempt.
But love at sixty
Once you are there
Can be a cuddle
In an old armchair.
Long slow hours
Each pleasing caring
No selfish moves
Just intimate sharing.
The pleasures of watching
A loved and known face
Exploding with pleasure
In intimate embrace.
The passions of youth
I'll give them a miss
For the hours long
Building of a kiss.
Love at sixty is slow
Caring mutual joy,
Man and woman remembering,
Never envying, girl and a boy.
You've got to be there,
To have reached that stage,
To appreciate the love
Of the more mature age.
Remember, experiment, always be bold
nobody is ever, ever too old
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Mrs B said .
Mrs B said .