by Paul C. Binotto
A single day of joy takes up more room
In the heart than a thousand days of sorrow.
There won’t always be, for one thousand, room
Or even one more, tomorrow.
Take today’s joy to bed like a lover
Hold her close beneath the covers, tight,
Like no other in the world, hold her closer
She may be yours only for tonight
Kiss deep her lips to taste her
To know her, from all others, different.
So, if not by sight, her kiss you’ll remember,
And alight, in arousal, to its flower’s scent,
And, fully wake to her arrival anon,
To receive her then in full delight.
Spend what time you have, in love again,
There may be no tomorrow, with her, nor another night.