A scattering of quizzical looks,
A flurry of meaningful hugs,
Why must my sad lady fair
Scare as if all men are thugs?
More than a pair of kisses &
A small certain of rolled up eyes;
With a hand-to-palm reflex too old—
Ma’am, unspoken thoughts aren’t all lies!
Just gimme some shelter:
Those northern storms boil up so fast.
I’m not very sure your fear and dread
Will all night gunk us up in the past.
Lovely one retired just last week,
Congrats on your monies independent,
But risk a chance with a dancer cheek-to-cheek
Before your tired heart is completely spent.
To those eyes whose tears have shed Afghani sands—
Find your calm and take hold of loving carefully hands.
And supposed storms
I know it’s crazy
What odds and a thought forms
When you’re old and lazy
And now it’s just all slowness and pains
And they’ve stopped reading your porms
And rumbles cross the street
I say watch it
Listen for the sax down beat
You know you’re gonna catch it
But Young Turks loom over newer days
And they’ve taken over your old seat
The streets return a cleaner dry
Come on, let’s go
It’s time to take another try
Lace it up and hit the do’
Kill off two miles and don’t whine
If your goal is to really fly