Mark Heathcote

Gold Star - 6,059 Points (22/03/66 / Manchester)

This Woman's My Guilty Pleasure - Poem by Mark Heathcote

This woman's my guilty pleasure
And oh boy how I love her
She sings of the green clover
The bees busy in the purple heather.

This woman is the truth
The whole day, through…
Loaded, like a bullet to
Shoot through any lies.

This woman's my guilty pleasure
In a life of no hope
This woman's my mystic fortune
In a life where I'm always broke.

This woman is the heart of loving
She has no illusions,
That mine is a stump no longer bleeding blood
Just; because at one time it could.

This woman is the reason I'd give my life
And make her my wife.


Comments about This Woman's My Guilty Pleasure by Mark Heathcote

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Thursday, August 21, 2014



[Hata Bildir]