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The colour of love
 

When enough is never enough and more

Wants more. Lungs full to bustin' with love

Yet still the heart craves more. Satisfaction

Will not be yours tonight or any other night

A beautiful woman rests beside you, but not

Enough woman to curb your passion, halt

Your selfish desire for more

 

Wide awake 3am a cold grey ceiling for

Company. Love has come and gone and

Momentary satisfaction gone too popped

And shrivelled like a toy balloon. A shiver

Suddenly rakes your spine, its your old

Friend anticlimax shedding another love

Another night, another conquest. Dawn

Will come soon and with it your endless

Quest will begin again searching for the

Illusive cup of love, a cup that does not

Exist and cannot be found

 

Oh, the cup of love. that fabled much

Fantasized vessel that never empties

Is always full to the brim. Bubbling over

With love, gushing with joy, ready to sip

Ready to quaff, take your fill, it will not

Spill. Sip the satisfaction, pour from the

Cup, fill a bath, bathe in sensual nectar

Wallow in the deep, fill a flask, shampoo

In it, shave in it; make waves in it, feel

The love, breaststroke, backstroke...

Fill your jug and dive in

 

Ah, if only such a cup existed. Thinking

About it though, I believe such a cup does

Exist it's called not being too greedy, not

Demanding more than there is, more than

One heart can handle. Grasp that and the

Grey ceiling above your bed may take on

A brighter colour, the colour of love and

What is the colour of love? Why, red of 

Course
 

© Joseph G Dawson
13/07/2017

 





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