Walking on sticks

Needs a good mental state
And strong arms to the fore
Really you have to be
In your own war
Emotional chemistry working
Away
A keen disposition
That’s really at play
Tempered and framed
With enormous desire
To feel like a tortoise
To try to aspire

To let all the others go off at a pace
You will be going
When they disgrace
Themselves tired of foot
Their arms numb as hell
Devoured by your age
And closer to Hell

Two sticks on the arms
Responsively you
Will keep your head up
Doing what you do
A race with the others
Not in your race
They can’t even see you
They are not at your pace

Your hips are afire
There is pain everywhere
Emphatically you
Will be tasting despair
But you will be walking
In your heart will be
The love of your life
Of course the Dear C

Overwhelmed by her beauty
Sold on her look
If only she saw me
A passionate book
Of love and of caring
Of chocolate at Dawn
Of agave and kisses
And yes some puffed corn

I love her as much
I must walk along
My sticks are my legs
Nothing will go wrong
I have pain yes I do
But a look at her smile
Makes me want to walk faster
Mile after mile.

My wrists are going through it
It’s marvellous to see
Her greatness her muscles
It works wonderfully
Walking on sticks
And a battering storm
Everything sore
But fancifully warm

How what’s
she feeling
I try to be fast
A tortoise may kick its future is cast
The need is to battle
Fortuitously
Gradually speeding up
And not suffer