Blinded By The Fire by M.A.Meddings
Your words this day are the sweetest thingA dream
An illusion
A seductive song
That you sing to me with scant intent
An exquisite joy
These kisses at sixty five
More alive
Than any I had known
Quite the menopausal state of mind
That men like me achieve
Twixt the years of prime and grizzled chest
I guess you know the rest
Far too wise
To willingly act the fool
Not wise enough to see
Until some inner voice
Entreating me
My friend
Forgive me now
I meant no harm
No illicit tawdry disrespect
I was drawn much to close to the flame
I was hopeless
Helpless
And blinded by the fire.
Poetry by lastromantichero
Read 718 times
Written on 2006-07-29 at 08:47
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