Apologies for the lacklustre piece I am posting here, I am a little ‘ring-rusty’ after my muse abandoned me for several months and I had a bad case of The Block. Please bear with me whilst I scrape off the rust, dust away the cobwebs and get my mojo back and powered up.
Normal service will be resumed shortly ..
Think of the Love that is requited not,
The Love that is ignored or worse, rebuffed,
So, when at night, you’re lying in your cot,
Your cherished dreams are like a candle snuffed,
Think of the tree that makes a gift of leaves
To nourish and protect the earth beneath,
And then capricious wind the earth bereaves,
By scattering what lovelorn tree’d bequeath’d,
A Love like this lies buried in my chest,
Forgotten by the one who lit its fuse,
It flutters like a new chick in its nest,
Because my dear, You’re still the one I’d choose,
So spare a thought for what lives in my heart,
The target of Cupid’s apropos dart.
© 2016 Martin Graham King