A poem that she would cherish |
She pleaded and she begged me. She asked me, “Pretty please?” She said with just a little time I’d do the task with ease. A poem is what she wanted, that only I could write. A poem that she would cherish dear and fill her with delight. A love poem for her only, one written from my heart. For that is what a love poem is, and where one has to start. But I am not a poet, I’m just a rhyming fool. Most of my lines are nothing more than drivel and some drool. But how could I reject her? She would not let it be. So I sat down to write that poem. She means that much to me. And here’s what I created, the best that I could do, a love poem coming from my heart to show my love is true. Roses are red. Violets are blue. Now and forever, I’ll always love you. Well, that was a disaster. She nearly had a fit. She said I couldn’t do much worse if I had half a wit. But since then I have noticed, yeah, every now and then, she takes that poem out of her purse and reads it once again. And then I see her smile when she thinks I don’t see. Those last two lines of that short poem are words of love from me. |