Please don't sigh or cry for me,
It's not tears or pity that I need.
Just give your love and empathy.
Just be my rock; my inspiration's seed.
And should I ever doubt myself,
Just help me out and guide my hands.
And when I fall or go off course,
Just pull me up; take me off that shelf.
Then when you're down,
I'll be there for you.
I'll guide your hands,
Help to pull you through.
And if you need me,
To hold you tight.
Then our true love,
Will shine in the light.
J R A Gigney (14 February 2012)
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated.
A Poetry mess teetering on the strange and fascinating. Nonsense, love, eroticism, comment and other stuff...
Tuesday, 14 February 2012
A Plea?
Bring back the lovers,
The Courtship,
The Romance.
Love at first sight,
That begins with a glance.
Work out your problems
Compromise,
Share.
Then all your love,
Will be stronger, more fair.
Hold him and love him,
Kiss,
And caress.
Then your great love,
Will be a success.
J R A Gigney (14 February 2012)
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated.
The Courtship,
The Romance.
Love at first sight,
That begins with a glance.
Work out your problems
Compromise,
Share.
Then all your love,
Will be stronger, more fair.
Hold him and love him,
Kiss,
And caress.
Then your great love,
Will be a success.
J R A Gigney (14 February 2012)
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated.
The Old Sofa
Covered in old leather,
Fabric and lace.
The sofa was floating,
In the emptiness of space.
How it came to be there,
No one could be sure.
But in someone's living room,
It resides no more.
It's old leather surface,
Is warmed by the Sun.
The cob webs inside it,
Had long been unspun.
No more hands would rest,
On its sumptuous arm.
No more would it comfort,
And keep bodies safe from harm.
Old memories of lovers,
Are locked in its frame.
Of wooing and foreplay,
Whilst playing love's sweet game.
No more old coins,
Slip between cover and back.
Even it's old springs,
Are getting quite slack.
It's still out there floating,
In orbit round Earth.
No longer used by anyone,
It's lost all its worth.
And if it hits a satellite,
Who'll really care,
If some obscure TV stations,
Suddenly go off air!?
J R A Gigney (14 February 2012)
Dedicated to my friends James & JC <3
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated.
Fabric and lace.
The sofa was floating,
In the emptiness of space.
How it came to be there,
No one could be sure.
But in someone's living room,
It resides no more.
It's old leather surface,
Is warmed by the Sun.
The cob webs inside it,
Had long been unspun.
No more hands would rest,
On its sumptuous arm.
No more would it comfort,
And keep bodies safe from harm.
Old memories of lovers,
Are locked in its frame.
Of wooing and foreplay,
Whilst playing love's sweet game.
No more old coins,
Slip between cover and back.
Even it's old springs,
Are getting quite slack.
It's still out there floating,
In orbit round Earth.
No longer used by anyone,
It's lost all its worth.
And if it hits a satellite,
Who'll really care,
If some obscure TV stations,
Suddenly go off air!?
J R A Gigney (14 February 2012)
Dedicated to my friends James & JC <3
• All poems written by J R A Gigney unless stated.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)