Three

Donne, with these words, could have practiced his art,
His unruly verse would have lifted your heart,
That busy old fool whom you read in the bath,
Whose fears make you cry 'til the tears make you laugh,
Well I find I stumble at every vow,
And now and again I may throw in the towel,
This wretch of a man needs no fortune or fame,
You gave me my wish when you took my name,

Dismiss these sour prentices,
I am yours and you're all states to me,

All that I have and all that I do,
And all that I am is eclipsed by you,
Don't know where we're going, but there'll always be,
Just you and me and baby makes three,

Wilde's stormy passions; tempestuous wings,
Quickens your pulse and makes your heart sing,
Those earnest encounters you study at night,
Brings a joy to your lips, such resplendent delight,
I'll stake no claim in the fact that you shine,
But I see your sparkle is something like mine,
'Though this sombre reed may sing out of tune;
It plays as loud as any Monsoon,

Don't ever doubt my intentions;
You're the one thing I'll always hold true,

All that we have and all that we do,
And all that we are will always be new,
Don't know what will happen, but there'll always be,
Just you and me and baby makes three...


© Nicholas Godsell 2010