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Ode to my debacle
There she was in essence fresh
Surely filling my mind
With women of confluence
I was frozen in time
Thoughts flexure my mind
The flexurous trip so wild
My what a world so grand
With ability to have swain so sure
The chance for heartache and pain
Thus our lives strike out in search
With love searching for mirth
Then comes sorrow and pain
The prowess to live love and die
With the essence of what filled my mind
My woman my wife
God loves her
The singular love of my life.
poem
by
John Shea
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