Though her lip's be full
Green leaves
Being a boy not a man
There is time
Though her hands are
As soft as silk
Go to the well in your yard
Young and full with truth
Words from her mouth
Burn as fire
And ice in her breast's
Young, my lad
There is no desire like waiting
A friend to you
When your alone and you think
Lad it's only advice to a boy
Copyright © James McLain | Year Posted 2018
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem