To Love Too Late

TO LOVE TOO LATE Some time ago, when I was hot and young and thinking older than my meager years, the know it all, on which my life was hung and openly displayed to all my peers, I played loves game, and made up my own rules, to hold and kiss not meant to be devine, I thought real love was only meant for fools, the broken heart would be, but not be mine; life was a party time, and I employed each flaming kiss, each raping of the mind, then tossed aside as something I enjoyed not thinking there was something else to find; I was the man; enjoying every quest but when you came, I suffered my defeat, I then grew younger than I'd ever guessed, and loving soon became more than a heat; now through the years, I look back, wondering, where wisdom was, not reaching out for you, well knowing this was love's great everything, but reaching out was what I couldn't do. © ron wilson arbuthnot aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet