New World

How strange and
awkward life will be,
when, in the future,
you and me,
by rules of common
decency, avoid
each-other's touch.

Where all affection
will be gone,
a small caress, no
longer done,
and kisses will be
frowned upon, and
disapproved as such.

No blush will colour
maiden's cheek, no
wand'ring hand will
tremb'ling seek,
the fire of passion
turning bleak,
exstinguished
out of fear.

Will such a life, then,
be our lot,
I hope and pray, it
will be not,
each person in
their private spot,
I'd rather have
you near.

Normality may take
a while, an up-hill
road, but, mile by mile,
we'll climb and conquer
it and smile, for, after
suffering and trial,
not all is
doom and gloom.

We must be brave,
let love remain,
reject seclusion
with disdain,
and trust each-other
once again,
and let our
flower bloom.