Let us two sit again for just one last ride together;
Like we used to in the days of old when there was
The heat of passion which still burns but like
The dying embers of a charcoal fire.
I use my toes to heave the old horse;
First with a gentle touch,
and then with ever increasing force;
Till we move faster and higher
than we ever went before;
The sudden rush of blood,
your unsaid gesture to tune it down;
My cackling laughter at your timid smile.
The ‘highs’ and ‘lows’, the thrill and ecstasy;
One matures with age like vintage wine;
The motion thrills us but we are sober
and show not the cord which still binds us.
Who says that love dies with time;
It still rushes forth in subterranean torrents;
More mature, sober and sure than ever before.
Today’s Gen of Instant Love and friends;
Need to see that the making and breaking of relationships;
Is infinitely more complex than the mere clicking of a mouse.