Make The Trade
I watched the middle aged
Couples swaying together
As the man with the guitar
Sang of love, sweet and tender.
The graying hair and graciously
Lined faces glowed with
Contentment long since lost
To my own tender heart.
My loneliness keeps me sharp,
Awake to the joys and sorrows
I often missed when carelessly
Ensconced in the arms of a lover.
Would I make the trade?
If Venus beckoned me, would
I renounce my solitary vigil
Upon love’s lofty perch?
Is there any other answer
Than yes, Yes, YES.
But the promise of love
Seems far from me these days.
Having so often tasted the fruit
Of her sweet and glorious mouth,
I now quench my thirst with
A child’s laughter, a bird’s song,
A coyote’s lament and the crackling
Comfort of the flickering fire.
Basking in the sun,
caressed by rolling waves,
I feed my hungry poet’s heart.
Scott DuRoff 7/2013
I watched the middle aged
Couples swaying together
As the man with the guitar
Sang of love, sweet and tender.
The graying hair and graciously
Lined faces glowed with
Contentment long since lost
To my own tender heart.
My loneliness keeps me sharp,
Awake to the joys and sorrows
I often missed when carelessly
Ensconced in the arms of a lover.
Would I make the trade?
If Venus beckoned me, would
I renounce my solitary vigil
Upon love’s lofty perch?
Is there any other answer
Than yes, Yes, YES.
But the promise of love
Seems far from me these days.
Having so often tasted the fruit
Of her sweet and glorious mouth,
I now quench my thirst with
A child’s laughter, a bird’s song,
A coyote’s lament and the crackling
Comfort of the flickering fire.
Basking in the sun,
caressed by rolling waves,
I feed my hungry poet’s heart.
Scott DuRoff 7/2013
