Friday, March 31, 2017

Old Valentine

The cognitive awareness of the soul
Pushing its life though the muscles
And senses trying to make them work
Their way into words and deeds
Every day the body battles
Not to have to be
And every night the soul
Takes it lovingly into its arms
They quarrel and laugh like old friends
So by morning everything is settled
Until the body waking
Begins to die again
Spring hardly makes a dent
The soul left wondering
What it meant

No comments: