I
am still humbly pining
For
wining and dining
A
Lady who I’m finding
Is
to be very sadly hiding.
Wont
you come out to play
Where
we can nicely sway
To
entice both being nice
Without
acting like cold ice.
Your
good, pleasant character
Was
aptly always in my favour,
You
nurtured my good nature
With
pious belief in our Saviour.
We
were good together,
And
I don’t know whether
You’ll
get back with me –
I
still love you you’ll see.
You
were my Saintly Angel
Alleviating
some of my hell
Of
a grave tormented spell
Of
being insanely unwell.
©
Andrew Stevenson 18/08/2017
An edited piece.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew.
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