Some days my heart has old ragged edges
Some days its staunch and dull as cold stone
Still, on other days it’s a beckoning blossom
With fringes unfurling in love’s golden sun
Heart, you’re a restless and way-faring drifter
I cannot trust or rely on your lead
Heart, you’re a harbor for feelings and notions
Guess in the end I must follow my head
On some days my head will allow me one day-dream
But on most days it rules with a fist
Void of enchantment or humor or daring
Grim as a woman whose never been kissed
Head, you’re a fine one, with rigid denial
Stopping your ears at the songs of romance
Seems I must hail my heart for a moment
And beg it to teach my head to dance
Yuriy: Heart & Head I think is the wisest thing, but one may throw a dime to see whether it is "head" or "tail". : )
ReplyDelete:) A balance of sense and silliness, right?
ReplyDeleteYuriy: Oh, Janet. : ) It reminds me Jane Austen's 'Sense & Sensibility'. Your sense and silliness is much nearer to reality. : ) I do like your sense of humour as well as other senses of sensitive Janet-woman. :) I wish we could converse a lot about the things but, alas, only these virtual comments matter.
ReplyDeleteThe mystery is the lure of poetry and life;)...and love. It is why I am drawn to poetry over other forms of written word.
ReplyDeleteYuriy: ...the field where we can refine and elevate the goodness...and love.
ReplyDeleteoh yes, always! and such a broad and forgiving field too:)
ReplyDelete