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3.
____
But if he is one like a moon,
It for cert will end then soon.
For his love for thee unlike mine,
Is not his own but someone’s shine.
Barely ever full himself,
How could he put then on thy shelf,
Of light & warmth a perfect match,
With which he could thy true son hatch.
Suicidal Tom & unyielding Yester,
Shall mock the late scepter till the last.
Transitive is the plight of the jester
With facts o’ the future & plans for the past.
For lunar love inter alia,
Gemstones paraphernalia.
But for jumping into the canal,
Rather off with Tom et al.
The solar is now all folklore,
Captured in the nights of yore.
The structured one The temporal way,
Shall taste the nectar neveryday.
Reading out this now, I,
Feel one like a loon & sigh.
Again should I to feel thee nigh?
Astounding lie..one like the moon.
What a shame..
Ghastly glory in such false fame.
Naïve little boy O this thy lisp,
And this wistful heart destroy.
Beware of all the will-o’-the-wisp,
And the crisp wiles of the coy.
Those who steal thy humble heart,
In whole or part at times will tout.
But don’t thou mind & moan & start,
Like those who whine & wane wilt out.
Abound this hope may do me fling
Around the world for that one thing,
Still dwell I shall in hearts of some,
But keep nor own no parts of none.
____
But if he is one like a moon,
It for cert will end then soon.
For his love for thee unlike mine,
Is not his own but someone’s shine.
Barely ever full himself,
How could he put then on thy shelf,
Of light & warmth a perfect match,
With which he could thy true son hatch.
Suicidal Tom & unyielding Yester,
Shall mock the late scepter till the last.
Transitive is the plight of the jester
With facts o’ the future & plans for the past.
For lunar love inter alia,
Gemstones paraphernalia.
But for jumping into the canal,
Rather off with Tom et al.
The solar is now all folklore,
Captured in the nights of yore.
The structured one The temporal way,
Shall taste the nectar neveryday.
Reading out this now, I,
Feel one like a loon & sigh.
Again should I to feel thee nigh?
Astounding lie..one like the moon.
What a shame..
Ghastly glory in such false fame.
Naïve little boy O this thy lisp,
And this wistful heart destroy.
Beware of all the will-o’-the-wisp,
And the crisp wiles of the coy.
Those who steal thy humble heart,
In whole or part at times will tout.
But don’t thou mind & moan & start,
Like those who whine & wane wilt out.
Abound this hope may do me fling
Around the world for that one thing,
Still dwell I shall in hearts of some,
But keep nor own no parts of none.
____
Published 14th Oct 2013
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