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Diminishing Returns
This pretty girl has style and flair,
Will she invite me to her lair?
I swear there's something in the air.
Should I invite her for a drink,
Suggest a date at the skating rink
(For writing an ode is a waste of ink) ?
These things don't come upon a plate,
Or if they do, they come too late
Like something nasty that we ate.
So, dear friend, please do not scold -
Our warmest days give way to cold
And youth itself like love grows old.
poem
by
Pete Crowther
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