I sowed my wild oats
Before I was twenty.
Drunkards and turncoats
I knew in plenty.
Most friends betrayed me.
Each new affair
Further delayed me.
I didn’t care.
I put no end to
The life that led me
The friends to lend to,
The bards who bled me.
Every bad penny
Finds its own robber.
My beds were many
And my cheques rubber.
Then, with the weather worse,
To the cold river,
I came reciting verse
With a hangover.
You shook a clammy hand.
How could I tell you
Then that wild oats died and
Brighter grain grew?
Now, once more wintertime,
We sit together.
In your bright forelock Time
Gives me fair weather.
Soon will a summer break
Well worth the having
Then shall our hearts awake
Into our loving.
(Dominic Frank Moraes)
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Based on Topics: Life Poems, Time Poems, Friendship Poems, Summer Poems, Weather PoemsBased on Keywords: drunkards, cheques, reciting, forelock, clammy, wintertime, hangover