My Old Guru

I listened not to your sweet voice,
for at that time, that was my choice.
A mere distraction on the day,
not the wisdom of the words you say.
The time and place was wrong for me;
I could not feel, I could not see
the wisdom in your soft caress;
rather, I gloried in your dress.
The golden glow that was your face
overwhelmed be to my disgrace.
But still some wise words hit their mark;
a beacon in a life so dark
and so today my heart can see
and things you told me, I can be.
So thank you now, my old Guru
for that gift so wise and true.

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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