He Might Have Loved Poem by Jones Jones

Perhaps he might have loved with more passion
And lived more dangerously than he does now,
If he’d remembered youth was a passing fad.

Suddenly, abruptly without warning the years have passed
The rising sap of younger days flows less
Like a torrent … more like a trickling stream.

Still he gazes upon her and the others
With no less desire than he did before,
Wanting to add them to his cerebral harem..

So he is forced into wondering if the
Prey, the object of his still real desire
Once chased then caught would be easily satisfied.

For those most fair in face and form
Are now too demanding in word and deed
For one like him to hope to keep.

Yes his flattery brings a sparkle to eyes
A smile of thanks to soft red lips
Yet now they seldom cling or follow him.

Though once there was a time an era
When these angels of beauty plotted to possess
As they themselves wanted him to own them.

Now free of passions from within and without
Searching, no wanting the rekindling of those desires
He awaits the sleep whose awakening brings renewal.

Would that the opiate might be swallowed now
To hasten this slumber that brings the reincarnation
And with it the sheer wonder of youth!