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My Ever Lovely

I fear it is too late for true love
Waiting on now broken yet bent knee.
Is it even possible to capture happily ever after?
How do I find she, my ever lovely, from Gurnee?
Callow gazes have passed over to gray hair
As the dimples sink beneath the aged wrinkles.
A once-charming visage is but only hinted at now,
Though sometimes the eye can conjure crinkles.
And children have come and soon spouses fled—
Those great matches of youth are like history, all dead.
Is it now our time to trip lightly and fancy free?
Can we meet for just breathing on the streets of Gurnee?
But the sun sets on our seekers of real love;
Knights errant stumble now when bending to knee.
Is it even possible to capture happily ever after?
How do I find she, my ever lovely, from Gurnee?

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Candle Light Blazes In Your Eyes

The stout little candle flickered its last
And scuttered out and left the oldster in the dark
He thought he’d attempt the 15th century
And imagine a time of dragons, for a lark

The safety matches safely lit a new wick
And the poet lifted his quill again
Skritter scratch and his lines pricked to life
Another damsel rejects a lonely swain

Refilling the merlot-stained glass
The oldess sat next to her oldster
The muse again amused, the poet grinned
Wishing he hadn’t sold that roadster

Gray hairs and faded eyes
But a mind keen as ever
Maybe he can’t drive
But his lines still tickle clever

Half-passed a candle later
The oldess kissed her oldster
The poet abandoned his quill
Surely, later those lines he’d bolster

Later, the stout little candle flickered its last….