Oh love – the open-gated heart of youth
That youthful birds and fellas always waste –
You waste our time with flattery’s half-truth!
In truth our better judgment’s trumped and aced
And aced again, we bet and lose our shirt.
The shirty gambler risks his stack of chips,
His chipped smile flashing for a piece of skirt!
Just skirt round me – keep kisses from my lips…
Your lips are ocean-deep, they taste of sun
And sunshine, mint-leaves in the evening’s hush.
Hush now, the river of my years must run
And run again in flood and springtide rush.
Rush now, give common sense a hefty shove,
And shove aside experience – oh love!








with love & light~ Desire~*~













45 old applause
