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Triskelion
Ferrari328
Hetero Male Dominant, 69, New Hampshire 
Ferrari328

In shape, well could lose 10 pounds....unfortunately have issues with live in type relationships, hence am here.....as the Eagles put it, "Looking for a lover who won't blow my cover."  A LTR, not-live in, discreet relationship, if you catch my drift. Prefer video chat on Skype for starters, so we both know who we are talking to.

 

Was watching the Durrells at Corfu last night (PBS thing) and the mother quoted a poem involving 'days of wine and roses', which I had to look up....apparently one Ernst Dowson, who died at 32 in 1900, wrote this.........
 
They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,
Love and desire and hate;
I think they have no portion in us after
We pass the gate.

They are not long, the days of wine and roses,
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a dream.

Which I find most beautiful and moving.....he also wrote

Last night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine
There fell thy shadow, Cynara! thy breath was shed
Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine;
And I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, I was desolate and bowed my head:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

All night upon mine heart I felt her warm heart beat,
Night-long within mine arms in love and sleep she lay;
Surely the kisses of her bought red mouth were sweet;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
When I awoke and found the dawn was grey:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind,
Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng,
Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

I cried for madder music and for stronger wine,
But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire,
Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! the night is thine;
And I am desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion

 

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