Not Lust, but Care.
Tell me dear, that it was all true
That, it was not my shapely legs,
The size of my hips
The shape of my cheeks
The coolness of my lips
Nor
The soft colour of my skin
Tell me that you shall not bolt
When my knees shall be knocking and weary
When my lips shall have cracked and dry
When my face is wrinkled and my skin dry
You
Shall remain to care
and each we shall care
For then I shall know
It was not lust, but love.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
Added by Poetry Lover
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