First blossom and first love are beautiful
To see affection in my girlfriend's eyes
Like flowers on a bush are plentiful
Although - amidst - a few thorns did arise.
Growing in confidence - though still bashful
We think first loves - perfection realized -
From my pen - this poetry - now unfurls
As I try to explain why I love girls.

I don't write here to talk about a fling
Or our first faltering indiscretions
But of the kind of love that will take wing -
(What teachers can't explain in lessons).
Now any kind of loves a funny thing
And it is blind and heedless of directions -
More so when we are young - it's free and feckless
Not conscious of itself - so wild and reckless.

A few years on and how do I compare -
What once had been so innocent and free?
When we broke up all was a black despair;
Till I saw other girls surrounding me -
Other maidens - blonde - brunette - and so fair -
(Though it is true that "all is vanity")
I could see the most sensible directive -
Was held by those with feminine perspective.

Go forward a few more years yet again
From this bountiful cornucopia
What some call affection - no one can explain -
Compared with first love's bright utopia.
Still, I need love - like a desert needs rain -
Any girl you have you make the most of her -
For all are beautiful in their own way
And when the sun is shining - go make hay.

Every native blossom has its tree
And every human soul a counterpart -
What's wrong for you - may be just right for me
And vice a versa (until death we part)
Every woman has a kind of beauty -
Be she virtuous - or be she a tart -
From my pen -this poetry - has unfurled -
I hope this explains why I love girls.




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