You might find me boorish
A buffoon with sensibilities from another age
An undereducated hack with perverse interests
Jotting down any ol’ thought on the page
I can be oblivious, sullen & exhausting
Rarely the life of the party, it’s true
You might find me infuriating
But I assure you, my wife does too
Drinking with the Harbormaster
Regurgitating things only the ocean knows
Freedom can’t be created any faster
Beauty survives rarely as wild as the rose
I’m a solitary figure these days
Although I’m too old to play the fool
Sometimes alone, through rarely free
No longer applying someone else’s rules
Quietly dancing solo these days
Who are we supposed to be then
You disdain my attempts at life
But it wasn’t God who sainted men
I’m crafting out lines, curious & new
Writing these rhymes rare & distinguished
I’m waxing on poetic, warming her through
Turns out; I’m quite the cunning linguist
My love resembles
A smattering of prose
Lady, I beg you
Won’t you touch those toes?
I’ll create any dream you like
Stories, poems or tales
Infatuation lingering now
Smitten with all you avail
I wish for your subtle tease
But I can’t handle your stare
I’ll write anything you please
Though I fear you’re quite rare
“It is curious that physical courage should be so common in the world and moral courage so rare.” – Mark Twain
Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay
“It is curious that physical courage should be so common in the world and moral courage so rare.” – Mark Twain
Captain Q 