Sometimes I am a young boy - who plays a game all night.
Sometimes I am the cup of tea, with rain and candle light.
And then I am the young man, romantically rare.
Unfettered, spontaneous with tenderest of care.
Some days I am the inner child, so mesmerized by light:
The sun in waves, a piece of ice. All sparkles of delight.
Reflecting in a brook of spring, I am the silent thought
Though this I gladly share with you, no silence is for naught.
And moments later I can be, the heart that sings so bold.
A love song flowing from my lips and sometimes well - I'm told.
Sometimes I am a sparkle in the corner of an eye.
But it can be a tear sometimes, though rarely do I cry.
I am The Gentle Nice Guy, but hey I can be rough!
But only when you ask me to - until you've had enough.
at times I'll be a verbal rain, a flow of words release
But only whisper 'I Love You' when you expect it least.
For these are words I treasure much and want them to be true.
And thus I never give them back, by adding in a 'too'.
At last I must admit a flaw, a huge affinity.
For writing run-on sappy rhymes
...of sing-song poetry.