Sunday, 9 February 2014

My first love


Her name was love and she swung like a dove
As she flew down with her wings from above
The endless white sky; to give me a hug
With her soft feathers, like a ladybug

And whenever she spoke she cooed cutely
Her beautiful voice rose and fell acutely
Like a love-song hit by storms of passion;
I was the lover dressed up in fashion!

Oh! Those emotions she sprayed like perfume
As I lay hostage underneath her plume
Staring softly at those fiery black eyes
That still haunt me in dreams like cloudy skies

Today I sail alone on this old boat
Croaking and crying like an old toad
Because; oh! Doves must one day fly away
To clip out an olive branch from the bay.

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