We were apples in fields of Perry,
Our exercise books were the gallery and shade where we ripened.
Your gallant smile garnished my appetite as my heart galloped.
At a chance glance you stirred the meat and the juices, I couldn’t decide between hunger and thirst.
I would have licked your lips for starters, chewed on your garter.
Every note was a recipe and I wanted you to cook my parsnip
Yet I was just fishing and you were already parsley.
We were like onion and garlic when English and Geography brought us together
Fondling the fringe of our fantasies in front of our future was a natural hazard.
Playing with the shape of you was the intention but, maybe I killed us thinking out loud.
Forethought and hindsight were toll roads asking us if we had enough change.
How deep were our pockets? Was I ready for yours in mine?
What’s a perfect 10 when you’re in year 9?
We never….so I guess I’ll never…..never mind
It was real at the time.
Maybe you were the first brick in a very long road
Maybe we would have found the lost city of gold
Now you’re living on the other side of a rainbow.
My flag is nowhere to be seen.
You’re the pear in a Perry field because I didn’t have the bottle.
I’m not a whine seller, simply a painter of paths.
Our moments on Fleet Street… thanks.
Diary of a Late Bloomer 