If it’s tears to replace
in your lovely old face
go and hug her, the mother of Tara.
I’ve been called worse than thinly sliced bread
I don’t hear any voices in bed.
But for every malaise
there is tincture of praise
I remember what THIS lady said.
Do I wonder if love can make war
seems I’ve seen it all bothered before.
What a woman rejects
doubles back and reflects
a cantankerous scruffy old boar.
As a man I perceive many vibes
from my spirits in thousands of tribes.
it’s a smile they are sharing
with all those who are caring,
I’m not one though who oversubscribes.