If love were but words
I have plenty--too, too many
bland, repetitious, habitual, like a stranger's greetings
I would be the least worthy.

If love were but words
the banal I would find from a love-dictionary
'forever, eternal, ever-lasting, unfailing
sweetest,  dearest, angel, darling'--what type of person would I be?

Inside it does stifle
and suffocate
I want it out
fresh air I need--before it's too late.

I am not made
for an inside-something man
freedom has been my most faithful friend
as the world and people I scan.

Don't get me wrong
no misanthrope am I
beauty is in the open air
not in shut-doors--I shouldn't die

before I've tasted life's sweetest wine
don't lock me in--the room is loud, smoky, *****
dim, the carpets sting, cigarette-butts all over
the tap doesn't run,  people are rude--being out is the way for me.

'People in glass-houses should not throw stones'
What a great piece of advice
Last week I threw a stone at my neighbour's
I've built steel bars all over my house---I am wise.

'A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush'
But I never go there
No bird in my hand (what 'two'?)
And tell me, how does one capture a bird in the air?

'  Mum, what should I do
  Now that I'm married to Lucy?'
' Son, do what you may
   But never be like your daddy'.

' Dad,  what should I do with my life?
Please advise me'
' Son,  do whatever you may-
But never marry'.

Let your dreams be few
too many would confuse
even one or two
(though small and homely) would do--wisely choose.

Many have dreams-wild and foolish
which but dazzle for a while --- only
to sadly fade away---there's nothing left to cherish
but a trail of regret and misery.