A lush and lustful perturbation, <br />in an enormous conurbation, <br />near the noisy railway station, <br />where we met and ate crustacean, <br />prior to our affectation, <br />and we found the ocean basin, <br />of our love and consternation, <br />oh how I miss the expectation, <br />of our romantic assignation…. <br /> <br />And now we meet in quiet places, <br />hushed with many softer faces, <br />next to rural woodland copses, <br />enjoying apples mainly cox’s, <br />in our freedom of love that traces, <br />all our life till this body ceases, <br />oh how we enjoy the chasteness, <br />of our devotion born of lushness, <br />when we were so very young.<br /><br />David Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/getting-old-6/
