Lady Glow

Pretty she is, eighteen to eighty,
This fool lays out his money for glow
Spoken words of endearment on my lips
Bouquet in their arms, always just for glow,
Always a crave I have, like a flaming desire
Besides the smile of a child
There is nothing like lady glow

by Phil Easy Welborn

Other poems of PHIL EASY WELBORN (2)

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