Does March madness infer love,
Is only the round ball what it is,
Do hormones have a play
will they strike another day?

Love is a fickle game,
worse than fishing for having luck.
Odds are worse than a horse race,
but it seems madness it is about

Madly in love,
running bonkers chasing that one,
Striving to woo and win them over,
being what we really ain't!

Wine, dine, woo and coo,
spend money on what you cannot afford
try so hard to win her hand,
then hope a divorce does not break the banns

March hares and March madness
oh so crazy to me right now,
For those days are long gone,
Me, I dream and mumble an old song.

By Tom (





Watch these pages for other poems by Tom.
In the meantime, click the links below for
poems and stories by our other authors.

The Moon Giggled

To Have Warm Hands

The Odes Of March

The Wind


Night Fishing

Burnt Out Match

Seasons Change

Winter Friends


A new feature at Lara's Den is free E-cards. I make them and offer them to our visitors and authors. New Cards are added daily.
Click the image to access the index.

And.......for many others, click the index image.

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