Loves Philosophy
Where would we be without love?
Lost sheep of Babylon, not God’s doves,
Loves philosophy is: ‘love, love, love’,
So let’s begin her story,
Her story begins in the womb,
Where love maternal is in bloom,
Then paternal love springs forth,
With eventual dada mama of course,
Her first steps are tentative,
Steady, gradual, pensive,
Love is growing fast,
She waves her tiny hand, makes a fist,
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Love is a mine of hearts and minds,
Broken, pumping, dull, awake,
For goodness sake let something shake!
From the tree of love, what does it take?
A fruit to fall upon my lap,
A love ripe to bite after a nap,
Alas alack release some slack,
I do not have the subtle knack,
Does it take so long to find loves grace,
With strawberry hair and a pretty face,
I wonder if there will be a share,
You cherry, me plum to be your care,
When all is said and done,
What is the point in life with no fun!
The harvest of love is worth more than gold,
So the story told should set the mould,
Look for love in the tree,
Where ever the tree may be,
And find a suitable fruit to munch,
And take them out for a hearty lunch,
If all fails and it well might,
Leave it a while with a smile,
Never giving up the fight,
Then when life is less stale, re ignite,
The journey restarted afresh aplomb,
Shields up for the femme bomb,
As for the men they may need fresh words,
To trap and seduce the startled birds,
A look again at the tree of love,
Where it is filled with new blossom,
Don’t act the goat or be a possum,
The news of love is close at hand,
A gent and a lady, years apart,
See eye to eye and have fresh heart,
Her mind is nimble his is on fire,
Where Lord to take this desire,
I wonder if it is going anywhere,
Do you care, do you think I care?
I adore you from the start,
Your nimble mind my aching heart,
To find her, unwrap her serenade her,
Hear her, feel her, getting close to her,
All in all falling about,
I could shout, is she the one!
Copyright © Jason Mclean | Year Posted 2010
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