Don’t be jealous of the gad-about
He thinks he’s largely fine without
A grounding force, a nest to lie
From honest love he’ll always fly
But fun it is til time approaches
The listless cunning grey encroaches
Suddenly there’s no-one left
He’s got free time, but love bereft
He wonders where his love will be
The years and months to pass
Discovering that time itself
Dies off like brittle bark
Joe Greathead 