Perhaps its the Wine
perhaps it is not
a cold darkish afternoon
what to do
except drink my Wine
and think of you
The Dinner to cook
the leg of Lamb
supposed to go in oven
good idea if I put the oven on
but I sit here
think of you
and sip my Wine
I think of you
and try and not cry
sad? I don’t know why
liar, yes of course
longing, yes certainly
enotional, yes
damn it
blame it on the Wine
So I shall stand here
and contemplate
that the Dinner has to be cooked
whilst I sip my Wine
and think of you
and cry
Always loved them, see what you think. Anna.
Advertisements
