We coupled constantly and everywhere;
insistent was the flesh in our young day.
But now that ‘lust in action’ has made way
for calmer pleasures in the life we share
its visits are, like verse I pen in age,
occasional. And yet I don’t require
autumnal metaphors for failed desire;
I won’t let ‘fading blossoms’ blot this page,
nor plead grey hairs and slight increase in girth
as cause for ‘kindliness’ instead of heat.
Sweet piece of me who renders me complete,
this I assert while vertical on earth:
more faintly sound the former calls of sense,
more fiercely is my love for you intense.