Coming From Yours, Comes Mine Poem by James McLain

I think of that of which we are small or large.
From the same place.
The hard the soft upper lip,
and to do what is just and possible you my one.
To help it, is it possible just the one.
Does love come to pass when being sought excessively.
My kind of woman is lost in you, but then in trust she is.
Writing that kind of beauty an oyster eaton raw.
Such is this her life, down then up in waves of poetry.
From yours, my this one coming from such experience?
Weigh my life when you and being, thus it is,
and this, is your life busy, but it is your, very loneliness.
That is for me your one comes day - one comes day,
life is mine, a gradual swinging pendulum.
I do those by which she becomes with me.
As for me, but those with which she of because I can.
Do you remember it is there are we, or you by me,
and thus is being, I desire it of it because of it the best.
When being possible,
Such are they whom designated to those by which it all is possible.
To do with me as I, like you!
I think we are from that same place.
Stiff upper lips, what can one, like I, try to do?
One can not but help too write such beautiful poetry.
Coming from yours, comes mine, the rich experience?
My life is this when yours and is of it, a bud in bloom so hectic,
but as is yours, verily when so verily the moon it is lonely.
It is a day by day, forever and a day, like you to smile.
Step by step and short is my life this sort of life for me.
I like you, I try to do what like you, I have to.
I do what I can for you when I can,
and like you, when you come, I hope for the best,
for the rest is but what we try when coming
and in leaving we try to do!