PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It's not Monday nor Sunday,

But I'm looking for a smile,

Perhaps a little hungry,

But chaste to not a' beguile.



I have a long way my dear child,

Over the moon I'm afraid to say,

I see it in her eyes but it is not I,

But how can we help but run away?



The work of a family and the work,

The love in some distant heart,

With some lone gunner Turk,

It wasn't meant to start.



But the distance sees me looking,

At the golden rays of tight locks,

And my demise at no tooking,

Cannot allow the future shocks.



But the weakness of the keeper,

Is that he must sit and stay,

And he shall never leave her,

Through upset or lack of grace.



The threads from the life of love,

Do hold no matter how bright the glare,

Even if the farm be lost,

Some clowns somewhere still care.



(c) R.H.Elliott.