Sometimes I Love Her And Waiting Poems

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Sometimes I Love Her

Sometimes I love her

And sometimes not

For often I can’t tell

Can’t decide just what

For when I see me

Poor wrought and distressed

I always see she

Her beauty far best

Her hair is so golden

Her eyes are so blue

Her skin is so silken

Far better than you

I wish I could see her

And see it’s no lie

I wish I could hold her

And love her as mine

But never can that be

As I should well know

Can’t waste any time

Perhaps I should go

For I could never be sure

To love her forever

For soon I could weary

Of my noble endeavor

I’ll admit that she keeps

My senses quite hot

For sometimes I love

And sometimes not

© Tim Wilkinson & Wayne Wilks 1989-2009

Waiting

Little round soaps of blue and of gray,

Of yellow and orange and red, by the way

Sitting together in a bowl made of brass

Faded and dusty but destined to last

Too pretty to use, too useful to trash

So yet they still sit, ignored and unused

Unkempt and unclean and slightly abused

Awaiting the day to come at long last

When they too have a chance to make a big splash

© Tim Wilkinson & Wayne Wilks 1984-2009

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