Wednesday, February 06, 2013

The Wrongun.

The Wrongun.

Define for me, heart,
what is right ?
You know, you feel it too,
the stir of passions coming.
A summer romping in the hay,
a winter skiing every day,
an autumn walked hand in hand,
the spring bring life into my land.

Define for me, mind,
what's the wrongun ?
You see the reasons, as do I,
what fate awaits my wanting.
The summers torrid sexual heat,
a cabin, a fire, wintertime complete,
the autumn storing up our love,
for springtime freshness pure white dove.

Define for me, heart,
is it not right ?
To be with the one we love,
despite the obstacles of timing.
For summer to smile upon me,
and winter bring joy that we'd see,
for the autumns love continues to be,
where the spring in my heart sets free.

Define for me, soul,
could she be the wrongun ?
When everything about her be right,
be everything I'd ever believed of love.
Where our summers be full of light,
and winter dreams fulfilled every night,
sharing the autumns of years to arrive,
where spring passion brought me alive.

M x