So delicate a flower has never been touched,
By such worn golden fingers, so callous and rough.
Such care must be taken, when speaking of love,
In case your inner thoughts are misinterpreted,
With the slip of a tongue.
Then what would become of loves chosen lovers?
A different path they would have to choose,
As they go in search of another.
Missed opportunities, come and go,
The whispered words that are never heard,
Only speak of sorrow.
Unless such care, did the lady take,
To listen to this poor boys, tears of pain.
(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.