True Love

I ripped the bodice rippers when I learned they told me lies
True Love is never heaving chests and smoldering sultry eyes
You cannot charm with champagne or with one seductive glance
The guy you meet and marry rarely has the name of “Lance.”
Duke Westmoreland of Claymore cannot sweep you off your feet
He’d more likely strain his back and recover in six weeks
Instead we must find simpler men with names like John and Sam
Who’ll never be Clarke Gable but will Frankly, give a damn
They won’t own twenty horses or a mansion down in Spain
But they will share an umbrella when you’re walking in the rain


(Fiona Zion)

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Stranger, here you will do well to tarry; here our highest good is pleasure.