Tuesday, 14 November 2017

I must be getting old

Being but a man
I have little discipline
No patience either

Gazing as I do
In moments of sublime bliss
At unaware you

Calm heroic me
Know my limits but will steal
Pieces of your heart

As I smile at you
Despite the response in kind
I notice your tears

Would the prophets say
"Go take this beauty and fly
Gently dry her eyes"

No they would say
"You are past this game old man
Write it down instead"

This poem written back in 2013 seems to reflect the person I sometimes pretend to be so thought it deserved an airing

Image found at https://www.shutterstock.com


  1. I don't know. My great grandfather always said it would be too late when they screwed down his casket lid. I like the wistful tone of thisvpiem.

  2. I was terrible at flirting when I was young. I can't say I'm much better at it now, but my husband likes it when we flirt with each other so that's something.

  3. This is so wonderfully heartfelt, Robin!

  4. I love both the sweet romanticism and the self-awareness.