To Love Too Late
TO LOVE TOO LATE
Some time ago, when I was hot and young
and thinking older than my meager years,
the know it all, on which my life was hung
and openly displayed to all my peers,
I played loves game, and made up my own rules,
to hold and kiss not meant to be devine,
I thought real love was only meant for fools,
the broken heart would be, but not be mine;
life was a party time, and I employed
each flaming kiss, each raping of the mind,
then tossed aside as something I enjoyed
not thinking there was something else to find;
I was the man; enjoying every quest
but when you came, I suffered my defeat,
I then grew younger than I'd ever guessed,
and loving soon became more than a heat;
now through the years, I look back, wondering,
where wisdom was, not reaching out for you,
well knowing this was love's great everything,
but reaching out was what I couldn't do.
© ron wilson arbuthnot
aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
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