FURTHERANCE
Learned lessons in the meadow’s hours
Of married ones and all kinds too
The sages judge who justly cowers
But in so doing bleed to blue.
They grasp the silk that consummates
And mar the gifts with lover’s stains
The ritual like the vowels await
And stuffy decades stun their brains.
Dances prior and dances post
Earnest promises of trust
Today display is loved the most
There’s seldom furtherance beyond lust.
TIM SANSOM 24th November 2006
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