Hours Would Pass Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Done to do once,
With an urge to experience.
Is not as satisfying,
If trying to recapture...
The experience of an innocence.
That only comes once.
Before repetition commits,
What had been once satisfying...
To an obligation.
Not to expect,
Getting less enjoyable to perform.
But done to do more to reminisce,
The urge to have had...
To do done just that once.
Now made to feel obligated to keep,
Attempting to recapture...
An innocence too long gone to remember it.

"The hours would pass.
And there I was...
Prolonging the moment,
Of toe curling ecstasy."

-And there I was,
After minutes would pass.
Wondering about an ecstacy,
Not to come.
But your snoring?
Lasted for hours.-

"Well...
In my youthful years,
My imagination kept me up...
Practicing for hours.
Just to have memorable minutes with you! "

-And so blessed I am,
To share those unforgettable 'seconds'.
You wish kept reminisced as hours.-

"Whatever.
They were still 'ours' to share together."

-There are times,
You leave me wondering about that.-