Wednesday, 21 June 2017

Enigma Stigma

I am at a crossroads,
Indecisive play or stray,
And with plenty of goads
I'm in a dilemma of which way.

Does she still have feelings,
And are these ripe for plucking,
Or is she still seething,
At what I was missing.

My faculties were out of place,
Such horrors for a beautiful face,
But I now have saving grace
Searching for love not to go to waste.

She is studied and learned,
And understands I mode,
And what is now said
Can be translated in code.

I am an enigma of subjects,
And what merriment I can muster,
Can come my way without a master
Of being my own destiny reject.

But that was then and this is now,
And can she understand how
I was to know to grow
And will bow down to sow.

Sow a word or two your way,
Come gently out to play,
And sway my humble way
With little decay.

Copyright Andrew Stevenson 21/06/2017

Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

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