We use each other - forget about love
If we’re not nice the love evaporates
A walker loves the hills when weather’s rough
Not only when the sun shines on his face
She saw me and she read my palm; the fates
Decreed that I would have another child,
Or did they? Though she hung around the place
Before long she had to be reconciled
To finding someone else to be beguiled
Into the role she had in mind. The glove
Did not fit her hand; plans did not relate
And so in desperation she’s now smiled
On another potential father. Move
Quickly don’t you love? Ha! How that word grates
Sun 24 Feb 2009
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