PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

After decades, it has died---

and with it my adolescent lust;

and with it, in some future time, my pride---

going the way it must,

and like my buried flesh reduced to dust.

Do not scorn

please, or make a mockery,

or stare with a self-righteous glower

(I pray you, of your charity)

of one untimely born

who came at the eleventh hour;

but not forsaken or forlorn

having the holy, wholly loving, company

of Lady Certainly.

Starward

[jlc]