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