The Grip Of Passion
I am just an old, retiring actor;
too old and infirm to engage;
in love; I’m no longer a factor;
waiting to leave this stage.
In spite of it all; I’m still alive;
passion, neath my surface;
by the Master’s will, I’ll survive;
until I serve love’s purpose.
Of my purpose; I’m most insecure;
tho passion’s fires burn within;
neither age nor infirmity can deter;
tho I don’t know how to begin.
Tho body is old; my heart is young;
my soul seeks its perfect mate;
I feel as tho a new life has begun;
logic says it’s too late.
My mind flows with a stream of love;
its waters are never still;
my passions flow from God, above;
they are the Master’s will.
The heart can’t ignore what I miss;
the mind is willing and able;
I long for a hug and passionate kiss;
my passion is no longer a fable.
I still long for love in those eyes, I see;
the grip of passion remains strong;
I hope to find love staring back at me;
for love is where I belong.
Monty 5/9/24. # 2,100