I first met Ben when I was a foolhardy tad
My legs were grown but spirit was blank
Ben sheltered me like I was frog to a pond
My delight tilted, sang, croaked, then sank
I said tic tac think tank…
I asked, will Ben come back?
I met Ben again after enduring a quicksand
My chest was weedy but body firm as rock
Ben coaxed me like Mozart would or a band
My senses tingled, elated, upward, then back
I said tic tac think tank…
I wondered, will Ben come back?
I met Ben, persistent, again to enter my land
My regal tiara was lovely but warmth I lack
Ben hummed tenderly like magic from a wand
My soul desired, groaned, resigned to a smack
I said tic tac think tank…
I hankered, will Ben, for more, come back?
I met Ben, silvered by hope and stain, oh and
My gown grand, no longer do I croak or chuck
Ben, my Ben, as I submit to gravity’s command
Seconds away, Ben, please, stop not to knock
I say tic tac think tank…
I answered, Ben, oh Ben…
We will have each other at the strike of 12 o clock
1 comments:
Thank you. I find your blog splendid, too. The drawings and photographs are beautiful. Regards from the Philippines.
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