John Thorkild Ellison (17/04/51 / Edinburgh)
A Song for Nicola
There was a lass called Nicola
Who thought that I'd grow sick of her,
She thought my love would surely wane
When I realised it was in vain.
No chance of that! I love her still,
The sort of love that makes you ill,
An obsession that cotrols your mind -
Yes, love is cruel and it's blind!
If I saw her with another guy
My heart would quail and I would die,
A fate indeed that's harsh and grim
(I don't even want to think of him!)
I want to hold her in my arms
And capture her elusive charms,
But I know she's other fish to fry
And secret needs to satisfy.
I'd sacrifice my life for her
Whatever hardship I'd incur,
Please let me always be her friend
And let that friendship never end!
Comments about this poem (A Song for Nicola by John Thorkild Ellison )
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