Throwaway

In love now, she fills up each passing day

With moments that used to be throwaway;

She laughs at the clouds and the olden grain

And isn’t deterred by the wind or rain

 

A voice says, ‘Slow down. Do not be a fool.’

But she doesn’t listen to voices, by rule:

Those throwaway people who don’t understand

That love doesn’t brook any

Countermand

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