when love was found
i called her blue jeans
for non was more reliable than a pair of these
every thread woven into character of fine fabric
tailored fine she fits just right
always in fashion without effort she is
with accented pockets to carry my dreams and hers
contrast stitches show we complement each other
with age her beauty rejuvenates
rising to every occasion she’ll match any crowd
from a rock concert to Sunday service
covered in shades of blue she never leaves me blue
faithfully she’s never been a fit for all or any other
and yet they wonder at my devotion to just this pair
count of how many trips to the mall iv lost
to find her waiting on the door of a corner stall
where another had found her ill-fitting and inferior
we met and no doubt it was divine
i walked out with the whole world in hand and a smile that said finally
6 Mar
poetryvace 
Posted by Ogor on October 20, 2012 at 5:44 pm
…would that I were love..and love were me. Sigh.
iLove.