Arthur Vaso Poet Light Verse

40 Y 20

40 Y 20
( 40 and 20 )

There was a time I was 20
Full of innocence and amour
Infinity is no ones Lover
Passion is sometimes an arrow that wounds

Now I am 40
Grey skies as I linger on
I admire the gardens and birds
Love is for those who are 20

The parks full of lovers holding hands
Vendors selling roses and dreams
To young sweathearts holding onto to desire
They know not one day they shall tire

She gazed over the lake, straight into my eyes
She was an angel, with a smile on fire
Who was I to know, a man of 40
This woman would divide me into 2

We danced under moonlit skies
She made me see that life is feelings, not mere numbers
I was 40 and she only 20
Laughter and love  made me young, and her hungry

Her devotion and love was truly a gift
She opened up heart and eye
So I was sad that day I had to say good bye
For I was 40 and she only 20


Notes: This is inspired by a famous Spanish song

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Cherl Dunn December 6, 2013 at 6:29 PM Love is a rare and beautiful gift at any age and in the heart it matters not she gave this man a wonderful memory if nothing more. Loved your write here it was beautiful. thanks for sharing it with me.

Anne-Lise Andresen November 21, 2013 at 7:15 AM - Arthur, a beautiful poem! - Love has no age! - Those who are 20 have only slightly more hormones :)))) - oxox // Anne-Lise :)

Shadow Hamilton November 18, 2013 at 4:07 PM it is a good experience to have had Arthur love comes regardless of age enjoyed it ty for visiting my work Shadow x smile hug

Eileen Manassian November 18, 2013 at 12:14 PM Interesting and captivating write. I did somehow think that you are older than 40 so this must be a fictional piece? However, the sentiments you shared are very believable indeed! Lovely!

William J. Jr. Atfield November 18, 2013 at 10:37 AM I know, only to intimately, what you went through Arthur, for I, at sixty eight regained my youth, in every aspect, with the involvement with a thirty six year old beautiful Oriental Lotus Blossom, a Blossom that wither and died after eight short, but filled to the brim, months ( oh how I miss - at seventy one - all we shared ) and now, for the past three years I have just been her best friend . Arthur Vaso November 18, 2013 at 11:17 AM Thank you William, this poem though is actually based on a song by the same name!