ODE TO GAILE

     I HAVE NOT WRIT OF HAPPINESS, IN SUCH A LONG, LONG TIME,
     I HAVE NOT WRIT OF HAPPINESS, OF STARS, AND BALMY CLIME,
     I HAVE NOT WRIT OF KISSES GAY AND LOVERS IN THEIR PRIME,
     I HAVE NOT WRIT OF MANY THINGS CAUSE NOW I HAVE NO TIME.
     FOR TIME IS SUCH A JEALOUS GOD, WATCHING MY EVERY MOVE,
     EVERY SINGLE MINUTE  MEASURED, EVERY DREARY  MOMENT PROVED
     TIME DEMANDS SUDDEN AND OFTEN, LITTLE  LEFT FOR IDLE THOUGHT.
     NO TIME FOR LITTLE LOVE POEMS OR THE JOY THEY OFTEN BROUGHT.
     TIME I'LL TAKE TO SAY, " YOU ARE FRESH AS A ROSE IN JUNE",
     AND, " THE SPARKLE OF YOUR EYES, REFLECT THE HARVEST MOON",
     I'D LOVE, " TO TELL YOUR EAR ALONE, WHAT ONCE TO ME BEFELL",
     OR TELL THOSE LITTLE SECRET THINGS THAT" ONLY LOVERS TELL",
     OR SING OF " MIDNIGHT'S DREARY"," SHADOWS ON THE FLOOR",
     BUT ALAS, SUCH LOVELORN TWAS SAID, BY ANCIENT MEN OF YORE,
     PLAGIARISM , SIGH, STIRRING WORDS OF MEN, WE NEVER KNEW.
     SO FAILING WORDS FRESH AND BRIGHT,I'LL JUST SAY," I LOVE YOU "

     WILLIAM EVERYMAN        1982

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