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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
Embarrassing flaw.
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, a little, 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 into
Money 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 is 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