| Can I keep her? Please Her tender lips he touched with tips, His fingers brushed across. Her silky hair he drew away, So the beauty not be lost. He cupped his hands and held her, A cheek in either one. Their eyes met, and saw the love, He knew she was the one. The passion flower of his dreams, His one true hearts desire. For in his heart she lit the flame, And from that grew the fire. Her creamy skin, textured light, And some tanned by the sun. Her hand gave me a velvet touch, I knew she was the one. A fine thin line, touched her smile, And around her eyes appeared. The lines of knowledge, and wisdom, Experience and not to be feared. In days of youth and spontaneity, Those lines not yet formed. And now you can remember, Some problems that you�d born. All these are signs of maturity, Be blessed and wear them proud. Even changes in our chemistry, These things we are allowed. They�re much like a fingerprint, Though changing day to day. They are just reminders, Of more changes and coming ways. Some are pretty, some are not, Some brought upon ourselves, Do what you can with them, Put the rest back on the shelf. The little aches and pains we feel, Warnings of a problem. From too much this and that, Or different things we�ve done. Be aware of what you are, And what your body shows. If in doubt, see the Dr. Let him tell you what he knows. A friends advise is good sometimes, Or a husband or a wife. But use your head at times like this, You may be deciding on your life. The Masked Writer <o.o> � 2001 T Lovett |