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I would have done so much better to have followed the life advice in one of my favourite stanzas from Shakespeare’s oeuvre:

What is love? ’tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What’s to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet-and-twenty!
Youth’s a stuff will not endure.

And the same message recurs in W.H. Auden’s ‘The Moment’, already referenced in another poem this month.

If you see a fair form, chase it
And if possible embrace it,
Be it a girl or boy.
Don’t be bashful: be brash, be fresh.
Life is short, so enjoy
Whatever contact your flesh
May at the moment crave:
There’s no sex life in the grave.

There’s no two ways about it, I should have taken more chances.

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