Another time

Your feelings when you meet it, I
      Am told you can't forget,
I've sought it since I was a child
      But haven't found it yet;
I'm getting on for thirty-five,
      And still I do not know
What kind of creature it can be
      That bothers people so.

When it comes, will it come without warning
      Just as I'm picking my nose,
Will it knock on my door in the morning
      Or tread in the bus on my toes,
Will it come like a change in the weather,
      Will its greeting be courteous or bluff,
Will it alter my life altogether?
      O tell me the truth about love.

An excerpt from Another Time, W H Auden.



I should starting reading him.