Love and I
Love and I are old friends but not that old
Old enough though to have been 'around
A bit' as they say. Love joyously smiled on me
But sometimes it was I who let love down and
In a big way too on occasions. But, nonetheless,
I mostly survived as did love's affection for me
I have courted, cavorted, frolicked and rollicked
My way through life and see no reason for change
I am a lively some might say blithe spirit. Carefree
In the extreme but nonetheless caring and fortunately
Entirely deprived of a need to draw attention to this
Her legs were long like nights are long
Of gossamer and silk. She might have
Been an acrobat so agile were her hips
She had a sway, an elegant way, she could
Really blow a horn as every car that passed
Would blast... I loved her sexy walk
Yes, love and I are old friends and it is by this means
That I became a collector of emotions. A dreamer of
dreams. A teller of revealing tales both real and
Imagined. The line between truth and imagination
I blur in order to advance the validity of the tale
Selfish? Yes, I admit I am. How could I not be
Given the feast that life has laid before me?
I am repentant in a small way… don't be silly of
Course I'm not - why should I be?
If born a millionaire why would I wish to be a pauper?
So I rejoice in love, write about love, love is the wealth
And the blessing I was born with. I can't spend it in a shop
But it sure feels good at night...
Her smile was my sunshine her eyes my starlight
I loved her and loved her I prayed for the night
When shadows came creeping into our dark room
Where she bathed me in love by the light of the moon...
©Joseph G Dawson
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