Every Pot Has A Lid Poem by JAMES T. ADAIR

After all of life's baits and switches
I dream of love and not of riches
one heart loyal and true
boundless love and softness too

So tired of life's endless race
I imagine her warm and friendly face
and the solitude of resting in a place
in her company and in her grace

Her soft fingers entwined gently with mine
like a rooted and soothing vine
I imagine being so entwined
soft whispers gentle and never unkind

I think there would be no greater bliss
than the reassurance of her gentle kiss
And then my heart might truely mend
and love for real and not pretend

Such thoughts sometimes feel so real
and to God I pray and appeal
To find a way in this thankless maze
A miracle in my later days

A man longs to be known for what's within
and not for what he wears or where he's been
And if he lets on that he is broken
His heart only knows what is not spoken

My grandmother said 'every pot has a lid'
she didn't think I heard but I did
I recalled the innocence of that thought
which just brought a tear where there was not


2008 © James T. Adair