Marriage, I can only guess
Will be like guitar, more or less
Just when each note is ringing great
One discovers open tunings…
And is back on ones first date
Words failing and lips trembling
As the
hands
begin
to shake.
Or perhaps more suitably, like picking out a bottle of wine
Staring blankly at the Sav’s
When one drinks Merlot all the time
Aqua profunda in the grog shop
Bottles at attention in glass battalion rows
For you only know the reds, and the whites are all suppose.
You see you’ll wed some pretty lass
With legs that go for days
But those days will grow on longer
And your lass will change her ways
As for your young and handsome lad
Who courted with each bloom that grew
He shall age toward Nirvana,
as years shape his ways anew.
The key it surely seems
is not a love you know through and through
But one you can unlearn and relearn with
When lifes gales come to tousle you
One to fumble the open tunings
When one thought one knew it all
And to sometimes sip a Sav
Though Merlot may stay ones comfort call.
catherinesietkiewicz.com 