At Fourteen Poem by Hebert Logerie

At fourteen years of age,
Most boys woke-up from puberty,
To start admiring the smile, the image,
And the divine beauty of femininity.

At that age, I wrote my first poem,
That I sent to a beautiful girl,
Who could not see the flame,
That entrenched me in a fiery swirl.

My heart beat profusely every time
I laid eyes on her. When I heard her chime,
I felt relaxed like a sleeping baby;
She had a major impact on me.

At fourteen, I saw the world differently,
It was a turning point, a gleam of maturity.
I became Adam, who ate the forbidden fruit.
Overnight, Angela became sensuous and cute.

The world does not or will not change; we do.
The seasons come, arrive and go, as they please.
You can be strong, once the arrow stroke you,
You are hooked, and unable to stop the sneeze.

The age of infancy or innocence is gone,
Life became more enjoyable and fun.
At that crucial or critical age and time,
We were spring and summer, at primetime.