Held

Love - The word may hold but a wee wild gist

Of the edgy feel you bear - the load, the lift.

You know your chum will slam the hard view

When you say, 'we have no plan'.

He will toss at you the rule,

And warn, 'your lady will want for more élan'.

But I love the rose and the lily, in the Eden

That we made of our home.

And how you deep dove into 'all cues of shy'

To tend and care for the area I roam.

I love the fart toy and how it aids you,

As you turn into a ten year old boy.

And how a cite of a film with an odd zany chat,

Will ease my oft sad soul with a lift in joy.

So, love - let go the cost of the folk omen,

Let your chum blab and dish.

As far as your lady will care,

Your kind of love is my only true wish.