"Waiting"

~For those who have Loved me, but especially for those who have let me Love them...

              OLD MAN:  Love, now, Love's another thing. 

 Normally speaking, there's your four kinds.  First off there's your light/fast  the sort that happens on a train or swimming or  a movie. Takes a lot of cheerfulness, does your light/fast. 
             Then there's your heavy/fast.  That's the sort as happens in a war.  Happened to a nurse and me beside the field-kitchen until the cook leaned out to cast slops.  Or was that your light/fast?  No, no.  To her, maybe, as she soon afterwards proved out by going over the hill with the cook.  To her it was just your olde light/fast, but not to me and that's where you have your trouble.
            Then there's your  light/slow.  That's the best of the lot.  Like floating is your olde light/slow.  Like two swallows of wine on a pain pill.  I only had your olde light/slow once and she left,  but that didn't stop it. Still get a touch of it now and then, especially when you can smell last year's leaf mold.
             Then there's your  heavy/slow!  That's the sort that spoils bad habits.  I know a man that got so improved by your olde heavy/slow that he married her.  Haven't seen him since, of course, but I've heard he's not dead.

~From the stage play "Waiting" by Jack Winter.
Canada

~Beannaichte'

8 May, 2013

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