|
|||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||
|
|
Billing and cooing And acting silly, Isn't a pleasure For only the young. This afternoon I had my head turned And a couple of love-birds Were truly sprung. Quite who was the most embarrassed, I have yet to work that one out, As I strolled down by the promenade front, And wondered what the giggling was about. Sat in the seclusion of a wooden shelter, Out of the sight of the throngs all around, I expected to see a teenage couple kissing, And was amazed at what I found. Their total age added together was probably 150, Yet adolescents in every other form, Doing what comes naturally, Doing what is generally the norm. The giggles interspersed with quiet moments, Their hands held tightly, though worn, Cheeks pressed together in rapture, Making their years drift by in warmth. In their eyes I saw true happiness, And a love that's usually hard to find, I hope when I reach their age, I will be one of their kind. Vote for this poem |
|
|