Give me always love

Politeness takes a hand and shakes a hand 

And utters measured words to ears 

But love, it grips the inner man 

Embracing him, assuring him. 

So, even if the hand is rough 

And uttered words are fumbled in the speaking, 

Give me always love 

And let politeness perish In its withered glove.

Frank Westall 10/2/2011

 

Listen to this poem - read by Frank Westall