(Daily Post)

He gazes into the distance

Wondering at her insistence

Her revelation is a shock

He tries to take it in stock

It’ll be our secret, she says

He’s unsure in every way

I’m not so sure, he muses-

I’m not making excuses

But secrets, whenever buried

Tend to come out – unhurried

Like a  Perfume sprayed

Secrets are never delayed

It may take a day or years

Time will not allay our fears

We must keep it quiet, he agrees

Trying to control trembling knees

Cos he knew without a doubt

That once this secret was out

Their lives would become a wasteland,

A drought

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