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Poetry | William Cody Winter .Com

My Poetry Blog

Sequor quod iustum est

To Sacrifice Love (poem 31)

When you meet someone for the first time that your soul wants, your heart yearns, sinks and is forever consumed, as if it has sunken into a deep marsh and is no longer that of your own.
Your mind whirls back and forth from reality to fantasies of a life filled with their warm smile.
Your dreams are flowing with roses, heart shapes, churches and wedding bells.

You worry every time you meet them it may be the last time you see them and nothing else could scare you more.
You worry they will not like you.
You worry they will not look past your flaws.

Now all you desire and need from life is for them to look deep into you and see the real you, not the confident facade you try to put on. For that is just a mask that you think people want to see.
You hope and pray they see past your flawed outer appearance, past material things such jobs and money.

You don’t see their flaws, to you they are a flawless angel with a smile on a face that melts your heart and makes you dizzy every time you see them.
For you, they make every plain day as perfect as a hot summer’s day at the beach. Your very soul burns as they pass by you like the sun upon your skin. Their voice is as refreshing as an ice cream on that day summer’s day.

You don’t ask for marriage, you don’t ask for them to be your prisoner. All you ask is for a single fair chance. A coffee or a lunch together in a dimly lit cafe. A chance for them to judge the real you. That is all you need. They may not want to go further than that, but you would feel fulfilled and grateful having been given that opportunity.

You find yourself looking up at the moon at night, wondering if they are doing the same.
If you get ill you find yourself worrying more if they have it and if they are alright than worrying about yourself.
You pray their heart will synchronise with yours, a beat met with a beat.

After months of hope when you find out they don’t want you and have found someone else at first your heart numbs and dies.
Your heart bleeds a thousand tiny red tears. Your stomach is always full. Your mind tires and just want to escape to a world of sleep.

But then your heart starts to fill up and warm.
You feel happy again and they you realise what your soul already felt before you did.

They are happy and they have what they want.
They have what their heart and soul needs.

You realise that you are willing to sacrifice your happiness for them and it feels good.
You are happy that they are happy.

Copyright © 2017, William Cody Winter.

Britannia’s Brexit: A Bard's Tale

This was originally meant as a poem as the hash tag #WriteAPoemAboutBrexit on Twitter inspired me. However, it didn't really turn into one and ended up sounding more like an old bard's tale. So, that is what I've named it. Read More…

Some Find Love (poem 30)

Some find love in high school.
Some find love in college.
Some find love in university.
Some find love.

I don’t want to die alone.
I don’t want to die without knowing love.

Some find love at their place of work.
Some find love at their favourite coffee shop.
Some find love.

I don’t want to die not knowing the feeling of two hearts beating as one.
I don’t want to die not knowing the feeling of the warmth of a loving embrace.
I don’t want to die not knowing the feeling of happiness as I stand in that little white church.

Some find love in the most unlikely places, let me be one of them.
Some find love.

Copyright © 2015, William Cody Winter.

Love's Purple Rose (poem 29)

(Not one of my best, but its been a while)

Love’s purple rose can be caught by a gaze from a far.
Love’s purple rose is not earned through time spent.

A lingering smile, a heart that skips a beat.
A smile that holds in memory, that can be recalled at moments notice.

Love’s purple rose is not earned nor won, but given by nature and a souls desire.
Love’s purple rose cannot be found, forced nor hindered.

A knowing that is heart deep.
A knowing that radiates through the body and mind.

Love’s purple rose comes but once.
Love’s purple rose is destinies desire.

Wait for Love’s purple rose.


Copyright © 2015, William Cody Winter.

Traitorous Traitors (poem 28)

Treason is committed by busy bees lurking in shadows on the left.
Treason is committed too when by those who spectate and postulate and do nothing.
Treason is most foul when those who should defend lifts tongue to only support others.
 
A Traitor turns their back on their nation’s history books.
A Traitor cares enough to defend other cultures, but not enough to theirs.
A Traitor turns a blind eye to the plight of their country and culture, but sheds a tear for a war fought in a far off land.
 
Traitorous Traitors betray their ancestors and the blood in their veins.
Traitorous Traitors deceive themselves in thinking their action will have no future consequences.
Traitorous Traitors are as bad as the enemy they defend.
 
Copyright © 2013, William Cody Winter.

The Stealth Assassins (poem 27)

*This could be about demons, it could be about a plague or it could be about something else. You decide!*
 
The Stealth Assassins flow by like ghosts in the corner of the eye.
They move with the impunity of Saints, though they are anything but.
Their hatred and contempt for fellow man radiates from them like the brightness of the sun.
 
Their greatest weapons are their deceit and the ignorance of others.
They trick then corrupt those in high places, with the promise of gold and riches.
The Stealth Assassins spread like an unstopped plague from shore to shore, continent to continent and person to person.
 
They blacken hearts, enslave the innocent and kill those who try to stop them.
Their power is to make their victims forget their heritage and embrace the Assassins’ dark ways.
The Stealth Assassins murder human rights where they find them.
 
DON’T step into the Stealth Assassins’ shadow or you could be next!
 
 
Copyright © 2013, William Cody Winter.

A Diamond Jubilee For A Diamond Queen (poem 26)

The very word Diamond means Unbreakable as is her loyalty. She never wavers nor cracks. She cares more by the day as others care less.
 
As others sell Britain to the highest bidder, she shows that we were once more than just a bit of soil. Once her people would have turned the soil red with their own blood to protect their nation, and she still would. Once her people loved their land, but now they have no notion of what a nation it formerly was.
 
She works like a slave, for little gratitude from the masses and even less from the government. She continues her duties at 86 that nobody even at 66 should. Just on an average day she attends meetings, investitures and opens countless red government boxes to sign, yet often by the public she is called lazy.
 
Now 2012 is a chance for us not just to take a day off work, but to stand by her as she has with us. Now 2012 is not the year of the London Olympics but the year of our Queen. Now more than ever is the time to cheer, wave and shout ‘Long Live The Queen’!
 
Copyright © 2012, William Cody Winter.

Passion For The Written Word (poem 25)

Letters on a page, words in ink.
I have a passion for the written word.
A passion to absorb the knowledge held in these little black characters.

The magical little marks have the potency to create worlds or topple governments.
They have the potential to enlighten the most ignorant among us.
They can set off an explosion of fireworks in the cerebrum of those who will but venture to turn a page.

Letters on a page, words in ink.
I have a passion for the written word.
A passion to absorb the knowledge held in these little black characters.

1865 or 2012 feather quill, pen, typewriter or computer the words are splashed on paper or monitor, but always just as effective.
From the Gutenberg Press to Project Gutenberg, from Shakespeare to H.G. Wells the greats come and go, forever leaving a trail of words behind them.

Letters on a page, words in ink.
I have a passion for the written word.
A passion to absorb the knowledge held in these little black characters.



Copyright © 2012, William Cody Winter.

I Just Don’t Feel Anymore! (poem 24)

I Just Don’t Feel Anymore!
 
 
I once felt the gut spin of nervousness.
I once felt the heart flutter for an ill-placed crush.
I once felt the sinking sensation of disappointment.
 
But now I just don’t feel any more.
Frankly I just no longer give a damn.
 
I once felt the rush of excitement.
I once felt the anticipation of hope.
I once felt the heat of anger.
 
But now I just don’t feel any more.
Frankly I just no longer give a damn.
 
I once felt that I needed Love.
I once felt that I needed Success.
I once felt that I needed Money.
 
But now I just don’t feel any more.
Frankly I just no longer give a damn.
 
 
I Just Don’t Feel Anymore!
 
 
 
 
Copyright © 2012, William Cody Winter.

For Shame, For Shame (poem 23)

The Trumpets sounded, the flags waved.
The Men and Women said I care.
 
They died in the heat of the Crimea.
They died in the damp of the World War One trenches.
 
Now you don’'t buy poppies.
Now you burn the poppies in the streets.
 
For shame, for shame
 
They died on the British Isles.
They died on foreign lands, far away from home.
 
They return now to empty streets or vial protests.
They return to the media that spits like venom, it’s just a job like any other, there are no heroes.
 
They jumped to certain death, when you said jump.
When you say jump they say how high?, not ‘I’'d rather sit on my ass and watch some more TV’ like you and I.
 
For shame, for shame
 
You think you can say that soldiers, sailors and pilots are not heroes, I say get away from that comfortable seat and go die for your nation, then tell me again there are no heroes!
 
 
JUMP!
 
 
Copyright © 2011, William Cody Winter.

The Horror In The Mirror (poem 22)

I have been plagued for quite some time by a horrific image in the mirror.
As I approach a mirror I must do so with great trepidation, for what I see there is a monstrous image.
 
It is a monstrous being with no saving graces, grotesque to the very point of making a person recoil with disgust.
Just the sight of it with the realisation that such a thing could exist makes all who see it give up on humanity.
 
I have been plagued for quite some time by a horrific image in the mirror.
As I approach a mirror I must do so with great trepidation, for what I see there is a monstrous image.
 
How could such an abomination exist?
How could such a crime against nature roam this land?
 
I have been plagued for quite some time by a horrific image in the mirror.
As I approach a mirror I must do so with great trepidation, for what I see there is a monstrous image.
 
What I see is something with no life, no intellect, no future and no hope.
Then I finally realised what it was in the mirrors, it was just... my own reflection.
 
 
 
Copyright © 2011, William Cody Winter.

A Sunset Over History (poem 21)

A history like none other.
A history of pride and glory.
A history of Kings, Queens and Knights in shining armour.

A history of being conquered and conquering.
A history of crusades and crusaders.
A history of fighting for rights and freedoms.

Now this history of pride is scowled upon.
Now the history books on school shelves sit gathering dust.
Now the unappreciated freedoms of yesterday are killed by the day.

A history of a sun never setting on an empire.
A history of an island nation that conquered the world.
A history of nobility and great intellect.

Now the sun has set over the empire.
Now the sun has set over talks of its history.
Now the sun has set over it’s neglected people.

Now the sun can never rise again!





Copyright © 2011, William Cody Winter.

An Old World’s Captured Image (poem 20)

(A poem I wrote for the tenth anniversary of 9/11)


Thy old world’s beauty gone forever.
Captured at a moments notice by faceless bystanders.
A bygone world captured by a small shift of a hand and a click of a finger.

A still picture, a moving picture.
A camera, a camcorder.

All captured the horrors of the loss of innocence.
All captured the horrors of the loss of an old world.

A still picture, a moving picture.
A camera, a camcorder.

All captured the horrors of the start of an endless war.
All captured the horrors of the start of the fight for freedoms.

Glass, Steel and Flesh burnt.
Four giant birds of prey fall from the sky.

Within a few short hours thy sacred old world is lost.
Within a few short hours thy old world is turned to one of terror and dictation.

A still picture, a moving picture.
A camera, a camcorder.

All captured within a few hours the death of a civilised civilisation.



Copyright © 2011, William Cody Winter.

One Day Unto My Grave I Go (poem 19)

One day let my grave stone stand towering and superior above all others.
For one day this is all that shall remain of my legacy.
 
One day unto my grave I shall go, a body given back to the earth.
But let not my name be forgotten as my body remains rotting.
 
One day let my final words be ones of honour.
For one day this is all that shall remain of my legacy.
 
One day let my epitaph read "“I came, I saw, I did it all……. But thank god thats all”".
For one day this is all that shall remain of my legacy.
 
 
Copyright © 2011, William Cody Winter.
 

Chivalrous (poem 18)

Since the beginning of time there has been politeness and honour.
So simple to remember and follow, yet now after all these centuries 
it is all but gone.

Gentleman hold the door open for a lady, just wait a few seconds 
for her to pass through.
How hard could it be?
Stand when an important person or lady enters or leaves the room.
How hard could it be?

Gentlemen help the weak and defenceless.
How hard could it be?
Gentlemen give up their seat if a lady is forced to stand.
How hard could it be?

Gentlemen abstain from unfairness, meanness and deceit.
How hard could it be?
Gentlemen pay for the dinners at restaurants.
How hard could it be?

Gentlemen always speak the truth.
How hard could it be?
Gentlemen respect a lady’s honour.
How hard could it be?

Gentlemen pull the chair out for a lady when she is about to sit.
How hard could it be?
Gentlemen help a lady to put on her coat as she goes to leave.
How hard could it be?

Valour, Truth, Justice, Hope, Diligence, Liberality, Resolution,
Prudence, Sagacity, Faith and Charity.

How hard could it be?
It’s such simple politeness, how could you not do it automatically?
How could you not want to be chivalrous?

How hard could it be?



Copyright © 2011, William Cody Winter.

Don’t fall in love as the clock stops ticking (poem 17)

The clock is winding down.
It’s ticking is slowing down.
 
We were born in a time of indecision.
We were born in a time where we follow our eyes not our hearts.
We were born in a time where we wait for others to act.
 
But…
The clock is winding down.
It’s ticking is slowing down.
People are impatient, they wont even wait for love.
 
So…
Don’t fall in love as the clock stops ticking.
 
The clock is winding down.
It’s ticking is slowing down.
 
So…
Don't fall in love as the clock stops ticking.
 
 
Copyright © 2011, William Cody Winter.

The Black Cloud (poem 16)

I woke up this morning and laid there.
I kept my eyes shut, contemplating on my life.
I felt like my life was flashing in front of me.
I only saw the bad times and never the good.
I finally decided to open my eyes, but only physically.
 
There hovering above me was a big black cloud.
There was a huge weight on my shoulders and I struggled to breath.
 
I leaped out of bed, threw on my clothes and charged out the door.
I walked and walked, it was all I could do.
I looked behind me just to see the cloud following me.
I felt alone and trapped.
I then realised I was in a forrest surrounded by large oak trees.
 
How did I get here?
 
Then I saw it just a few feet away, a beautiful large pond.
I removed my clothes and leaped in head first.
 
The water was ice cold, but refreshing.
I was still underneath the water when it happened again, my life
flashed before me.
This time it was different, I saw the good times.
 
I saw the birthdays, the christmases and the laughter.
I saw a future of happiness, laughter and smiles.
I felt the universe shift and the sun shone brightly above the oak trees,
the black cloud evaporated as if by it’s rays.
 
I sprung from the water reborn, new of heart, new of mind.
 
 
 
 
Copyright © 2011, William Cody Winter.

Living History (poem 15)

We’re built from genes of by-gone ages.
We’re built from strands of our ancestors’ Deoxyribonucleic acid.
We’re built from bits and pieces from through out history.

From Farm Hands to Barons.
From Coal Miners to Kings.
From the ordinary to the Famous.

From the Forgotten to the Truly Unforgettable.
From the Bad to the Good.
From a White Feather to a Victoria Cross.

We’re built from the bits and pieces from history.
We’re each carrying the DNA of our Forebears.
We’re each Living History.



Copyright © 2011, William Cody Winter.

I Still Believe In The Ways Of Old (poem 14)

I still believe in Chivalry.
I still believe in Honour.

I don’t believe the New is best because it’s fashionable.
I don’t believe in destroying the Old to make way for the New.

I still believe in True Love.
I still believe in Diamonds and Wedding Bands.

I don’t believe caring for History and Cultural Heritage is immoral.
I don’t believe that it’s all been for nothing.

I still believe in the Monarchy.
I still believe in Titles and Coats of Arms.
I still believe in holding doors for females to pass through.

I still believe in it all and I will not give up.
I still believe in the Ways of Old.


Copyright © 2011, William Cody Winter.

Too Good (Poem 13)

You were too good for me.
You saw it.
I denied it.

My eyes dilated.
My heart pounded.
My mind drifted.

You were too good for me.
You saw it.
I denied it.

I was in awe of you.
I saw a chance for happiness with you.
I saw an ever lasting fairy tale.

I dreamt of romance.
I dreamt of roses, diamonds and warm smiles.
I dreamt of a chance with you.

But I was the only one with these thoughts.
I was the only one who had hopes of us.
Now I see it could never have been.

You were too good for me.
You saw it.
I denied it.


Copyright © 2011, William Cody Winter.

From Worms and Maggots to Heaven and Hell (poem 12)

I didn’t believe in Heaven and Hell.
I didn’t believe in Ghosts and Angels.

I only believed in death’s fatal cold embrace.
I only believed in worms and maggots.

I didn’t believe in Heaven and Hell.
I didn’t believe in Ghosts and Angels.

I only believed in death’s fatal cold embrace.
I only believed in worms and maggots.

But over the years I’ve seen deaths image.
But over the years I’ve heard deaths voice.

My eyes and ears didn’t fail me.
The cameras didn’t lie to me.

Now I believe in some kind of Heaven and Hell.
Now I believe in Ghosts.

Now I don’t fear the cold box.
Now I don’t fear the Worms and Maggots.

I welcome deaths warm embrace!



Copyright © 2011, William Cody Winter.

It can’t be love, can it? (poem 11)

It can’t be love, can it?

It was any other day, just keeping myself to myself.
There from afar she caught my eye in that packed room.
What? Wait? Why?

There must have been a dozen or two women there.
There had to be a reason for the captivation I felt.
What? Wait? Why?

I didn’t even know her, I had never seen her before in my life.
What purpose could there be for this needless enchanting?
What? Wait? Why?

From that moment on there she was.
Around every corner, through every doorway.
That made it oh so much worse.
What? Wait? Why?

I was the perfect gentleman that my heart told me to be.
I held open doors as she passed through.
I always let her pass through them first.
She rewarded me with that bewitching smile, that melted my heart.
What? Wait? Why?

But that didn’t matter, a gentleman she wanted not.
I started to notice her snicker as she passed me.
I started to notice her look the other way as she passed me, pretending she hadn’t seen me.
But that still was not enough to make me quit.
What? Wait? Why?

I keep thinking of her anyway, even though I know she does not like me.
It breaks my heart more each day.
What? Wait? Why?

This is the 21st century a woman never shall want a gentleman again.
Muscles the size of towers and a face of a super model is what’s needed.
Brains and manners need not apply.
What? Wait? Why?

Or perhaps today ‘Gentleman’ is just a nice way of saying ‘Ugly Creep’!


Copyright © 2010, William Cody Winter.

The Battle of the Few (poem 10)

(A poem for the 70th anniversary of The Battle of Britain)


Those Few flew over London’s sky by day and by night.
The great Few that always know the Empire would never lose.
They always knew they would return to England’s soil, be it above or below.
They who battled like legendary heroes not by land or sea but in the air like never before.
They who’s bravery and unselflessness stopped the Nazi war marchine in it’s tracks.
They who stopped the world being invaded and becoming slaves (or at least for a few more years).

They are the men who won the Battle of Britain.
They are the kind Few who should never ever be forgotten.


Copyright © 2010, William Cody Winter.

There was once a great man called… Buffalo Bill (Poem 9)

There was once a great American soldier
There was once a great Buffalo Hunter
There was once a great Sure-Shot
There was once a great Pony Express Rider
There was once a great Stagecoach Driver
There was once a great showman

How many great men is that?
Six?

It was but ONE!

A man of honor with a Medal of Honor
A man who saved his father’s life at the age of seven
A man of equality man, woman, black or white it made no matter to him.
A man who PUSHED for the rights of Indians and Women
A man who founded the great Wyoming city of Cody
A man who almost single handly rewrote the world picture of the wild west
A man who’s news of his death received tributes from King George V of the United Kingdom, Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany, and President Woodrow Wilson.
A man who quickly became the first American superstar

A man loved by millions the world over, never to be forgotten even to this day.
His name was William Frederick Cody, better known across the world as Buffalo Bill Cody.



William F. Cody
26th February, 1846 – 10th January, 1917


Copyright © 2010, William Cody Winter.

I wake up to sleep again (Poem 8)

I sleep til one pm
I lay there eyes closed for twenty minutes
What will I see if I open them?
Nothing
Nothing but the dull grey vortex that is my life

It’s the same old thing day after day.
So I turn back over and go to sleep.
That sweet sleep, the oblivion of living death

Life has no meaning, so I visit that oblivion of living death,
I sleep my life away, for I have no life to waste

Sleep Sleep Sleep
I sleep till one pm
I lay there eyes closed for twenty minutes
What will I see if I open them?
Nothing
Nothing but the dull grey vortex that is my life

Sleep Sleep Sleep
Why be awake in that boredom, and depressing reality of failure.
Why not visit the sweet oblivion of living death
So I do.

I Sleep Sleep Sleep.


Copyright © 2010, William Cody Winter.

Our Mutual Friend, England! (poem 7)

We have a mutual old friend and She’s dying!
We have a very old friend and She’s slowly slipping away!
We have a dear old friend who was always here through thick and thin and She’s passing away!

Why is she dying you ask? Old Age?

She’s dying through neglect and abuse!
She’s decaying!
She’s got a rotten black heart from years of uncaring ill-treatment!

Who is she? you ask
Don’t you know yet?

Take a few paces outside, can you feel the ground under you?
Yes good!
Now breathe in deeply, feel the air in your lungs?
Yes?
Do you have a personality?
I thought so!

Well that’s her!

She’s the ground beneath your feet!
She’s the air in your lungs!
She’s a part of your personality, she’s helped form who you are!

She’s England!
Just believe!

Copyright © 2010, William Cody Winter.

Dare We Remember? (poem 6)

Dare We Remember?
(Poem for Remembrance Day 2009)

The hundreds of thousands went to their deaths untimely, so we were to know the freedom and pride that they had.
They ask nothing in return, but that we stand up for those freedoms and feel their pride.
Instead we are told that pride in our nation is shameful and wrong, we watch as our nation’s flag lies on the ground for the fear of raising it may cause a stir.

They fought for the Land of Hope and Glory, just so that we could now sit uncaring, rapidly putrefying in the decay of our own making. What has happened to the days of flags waving, crowds cheering and the tears of love for Queen and Country? The Land of Hope and Glory was once a legend, now a myth.

Men and Woman of the British and Commonwealth armed forces you were and are the bravest, noblest and finest bunch the world could ever produce. Your memory will always linger with us few, who still wear our poppies on our breast with great pride. Us few that still can say “WE CARE”!



Copyright © 2009, William Cody Winter.

Elizabeth I: Our queen! (poem 5)

Elizabeth was the queen that was seen to be mean like her mad dad.
Elizabeth was in fact knowledgeable and agreeable, wearing great attire with desire.
Elizabeth was a graceful, grateful and faithful queen.
Elizabeth was clever never to wed or bed and instead misled men all over the world for her kingdom to have freedom.
Elizabeth was a great queen who also became a virgin warrior that died hundreds of yeas ago, she was never ever gotten or forgotten.

Copyright © 2008, William Cody Winter.

My England of old (poem 4)

England the grand land that was once vowed to be proud.
They proudly loudly sung with heart and soul 'God Save the Queen'.
But now content to be bland with no brand and to cower with out power to the E.U
Modern invaders intent on killing our national indenity and history, with full blessing of government.
Many of our great land wish for change but their finger lingers with no will of pride.
England where have you gone?

I shout out loud with all my being 'where Is my England of old?'.
Oh where where is my England of red and white, of King, Queens and princes alike.
Where are the days of the flag, cheers and the tears of love for queen and Country?
Oh England, What would the great englishman of past say to see you now?
Shakespeare, What say you? King Arthur, What say you? Elizabeth I, how about You?
People of England, just read a few simple history books to see what we once were, Can you truely say with all heart and spirit that you care not for the rich history of our land?
England where have you gone?

Copyright © 2007, William Cody Winter.

My Longing Love (poem 3)

I long to find my true beloved.
I long to hear the beating heart of a dear, sweet heart against my ear.
The beating treating of a fair ladys heart, in the cart that is her rib cage.
I long to look into her deep womanly eyes, the eyes that make my heart melt and mellow, for it is true the eyes are indeed the gateway into the angel within.
Her eyes fry my guises, for no secret can be kept from her.
I long for her arms around me, in an ever lasting embrace of our pure love.
I long for her company in my dull hours, as much as any man longs for a candle in the dark.


Copyright © 2007 William Cody Winter.

The loyal royal diamond wedding anniversary (poem 2)

(Written in honour of the diamond wedding anniversary of HM Queen Elizabeth II to HRH Prince Philip Duke of Edinburgh - 20th November 2007)

The Queen knew since the prince first burst into the gloom of the room,
that he was the one hun.

The wedding was heading from the start to be an everlasting casting.
The keen Queen was not green awaiting her wedding.

The genes of the Queen were already steady,
but with the prince's blood not dud, the loyal royal's throne's bone was not prone to groan.

It had it's ups and downs with crowns,
but what more could one expect with all there chores at the doors.

But sixty years on they're still not gone.
The Queen being the first monarch to celebrate their diamond cursory anniversary.

They always meant their content.
The kind of loyalty that it shows glows.
Thank the gods or dogs.


Copyright © 2007 William Cody Winter.

Love Glove (poem 1)

Hi,
Here is an old poem I made in 2005.

Love Glove
I am devoid of love throwing down my glove,
and Walking out of the building talking to myself,
looking like an angry elf.
We had talked of it, being the end of it for many a time, which was quite a crime. If only we had not been quite so mad and sad.
For a silly reason in the hunting season, I'm walking away from reason, looking like a mason with out reason. Love shoves those, with weak hearts, with darts like tarts.
The darts are done with smarts. My heart harks with harps, just to get darts.
I have a pain in brain, because you're in my vein like a cane.
If only I had a white dove with new love gloves, I would not mock a lock, to protect with respect, my love glove.

William Cody Winter © 2005.