By A.R.

So Beau, tell me is there in my acts of amour

That appears to your heart?

With no answers, still I try

My hand at a woman who seems almost forbidden

My own Helen of Troy so hard to allure

Vivid displays of emotion though still she ignores

Though still I try

My hand at a woman’s amour that seems almost forbidden

So many acts of betrayal, let downs

Still

I’ve always forgiven

Who am I but a gentleman to discern love from lust

So in a conniving feline still I trust

Disappointment, disappointment, over again

This game of hearts I strive to win

My dreams often occupied with visions of her

A mere sight of her beauty

Will cause hormones, emotions together to stir

But I awake to only welcome loneliness with a reluctant embrace

This solitude maybe has driven me crazy

I’ve ventured far past Rubicon

Endowed in acts that may capture her love, or lust?

Who knows?

Often I see we’re misled by desire on uncertain path

With lust for a love one should not have

Though I…I choose to bow out gracefully

Cherie amour though your beauty is undesirable

If you feel not for me then I try no more

Emeritus