The Traveller.

The Traveller. ode

Photo by Ben Woosley

Love, it’s not the first time that our eyes have met,
Yet you show me nothing more than your yoga stretch,
Hello swell who knows just as well that this ain’t no competition,
Still you leave me forever baffled by your lack of conversation,

Miss unspoken name,she’s gone before she came,
Because the land of gods breeds an air of restraint,
Although its preferable not to wait and allow fate to dictate,
But its only polite to not put the sweater away,
Until we continue to carry on this way,

Always abreast in an imagined race while her presentation shimmers in sweat,
I’m far behind in this perpetual chase but the appearance is generally kept,
Yes its all very well to display defence and ploys to circumvent distress,
For whoever blamed chit chat for putting a knife through anybody’s chest,

Sigh unspoken name,she’s gone before she came,
Nobody said holy lands must call for verbal restraint,
Although its preferable not to wait and allow fate to dictate,
But its only polite to not put the sweater away.
Until we continue to carry on this way.

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