I’ve mellowed my romance,
yet I’m still too intense.
In baseball parlance,
I keep swinging for the fence …

and striking out.
I’m not certain what I want;
I’m not certain what that’s about.
I guess I should (mixing metaphors) just punt.

I once knew a woman
who was as enthused as could be.
Sometimes I think about her. Damn!
She was intense about ME!

The women I meet lately claim they have dreams;
But no one wants to put the effort in, it seems.