Aubade Accolade

 

In a moment of composite newness,

the adjectives flow into the way.

 

Left breathless, by sensual pleasures,

that pirouette slow rondelays,

 

I take in the moment’s sweet offers;

if for only a moment, per day.

 

Too pleasing these composite hours,

but for thee, Love, I simply essay:

 

The moments for me are like flowers!

from life-living giving bouquets.

 

I sit and omit all the dour,

when an officer steps up then to say:

 

“Sir, you’ve been dawdling here for now hours.”

“It’s Time, Sir, you be on your way!”

 

 

 

 

©2013, Marvin Loyd Welborn

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