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Impotent Unable To Fertilize
Impotent
Unable to fertilize
Like flocks of Doves, on the wing,
words of love, you want me to sing.
To your heart, love you want me to bring,
instead, all you receive – arrows that sting,
for truth is my thing, that bell I must ring.
There seems nothing more, not another thing
I can do for me, or am able to do for you
that can make our dreams come true.
B. J. “A ” 2
March 4th 2003
Copyright ©
William J. Jr. Atfield
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