When young
His blood was hot.
He flung
Himself into expense
And many a wench
Did smile
A crocodile smile
As with each python hug
He dug
His own trench.
As he grew older, his blood cooled somewhat
Though heaven knows
That passion hot
Still arose
From time to time
And manifested itself in
What some call sin …
Though to rhyme
Is no crime …
K Morris - Poet 
This is amazing, Kevin. I read it to my Mother and she loves it too.
Thank you, Robbie! I am truly delighted that both your mother and you like my poem. All the best, Kevin