Jayne
I see you every day
near the Hudson Bay.
Your body is like wine
but, your mine.
I know other men tried to win you over-
they all failed-
because you are meant for me.
Your name is like a lost French folk song,
or New York City in the rain
I seek no sorrow and feel no pain
when I hear your name, Jayne.
Our love will never go wrong-
you look like the sun rising over the mountains of Montana,
or the misty moonlight over the Black Sea
because you are the only one for me.
Some call you glory in your grace of glory
but, that's another story.
even then,
I will love you
your my psychedelic lover-
will you love me too?
Copyright © Blake Holland | Year Posted 2016
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