Renfrewshire can't be much higher or lower than London
Though I know it's North and that your church has a spire
Oh how my feelings grow higher, Oh how I aspire
To return there, there retire.
Wondrous Wonderland.
It's quite well and all, But will I like what I see and find when I fall?
Maybe the answer is far behind but the lights to London are brighter than flame
The path quite evidently marked by those who came,
On adventure,
A poetry, love, the duel over you after the slap of a glove
The kiss that comes after a push and a shove,
The poison on our star crossed lips,
A gentlemen's death.
Breaking through the cold mirror glass to the other side holding together to the star crossed hips.
Adventure forever.
In my just censure I am blessed with sight of the lights that lead my way into eternity,
The fraternity of revelry, revelation, retaliation, relevance.
History of adventure, you are,
The final frontier, the pull to the wheel
The direction I steer
You are, so much more than faeries 'n fay and magic and what we speak or say!
Yet you are all encompassing, encompassing all I write about today.
Oceans are not to separate but to stress magnetic navigation,
Make us learn love and loss before our eternal elation.
YOU ARE READING
Love Poetry
PoetryA collection of all my love poetry over the years--some bitter, some sweet, and some in between.
