They go, in sun and wind, past standing cars

I watch their backs whom I love so

Smart and striding upright and purposeful...

Flowers and love songs are expected things

And verse like this (but better) when the talk

Concerns romantic love...

Things to do – will we regret? 

Be bound down – never! Loving, let

Us take ‘em on and laughing...

I dine out on love – all your fantastic foods 

Seduce the palate and outrage restraint

But grub is not the sum of all my goods...

Bleak, in a way, eh? Bleaker than the day 

Which slips up to the windowpane and splurges...

This is the secret of the sphinx 

Allie loves Pete so the whole world turns

All woman can mean from mother to minx 

‍

It’s like a hill I’m climbing

A heap – but not of slag

Church bells are nearby chiming...

The days would have been rainier

The dark sky never clear

If you’d gone to Tasmania...

All that live are lamed in soul

So I’m no freak but one of many

Stumbling, half out of control...

The last pear plucked

The evening primrose gone – 

What now may fate deduct...