'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.


Singular Symbol.


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.