Thursday, April 15, 2010
'Nuff to make a willow weep
Two luvyduvy poems from my tender middle-age. These are for Willow, Call in, you will be well rewarded.
Were there a bindweed with thorns
And the innocent face of a rose:
With the scent of sweet lilac
And the powers of nightshade,
and no less a tendency to carnivourizm
than the guiltless venus fly-trap, the lovelost
poet in me would, I suppose deem it a
singular symbol of that pointless passion
I am still naive enough to refer to
as 'love' Know what I mean?
Only one generation out of phase.
Insuly to injury
Pathos on perfidy,
Twenty nine reasons for tears
And all of them years.
But there's a brighter side.
Who would not say I tried
To love without deceipt?
If with enough conceit
Oh! Heartless destiny
Why do you toy with me?
Weeds in my heart you have sown.
Just leave me alone.