just like all the lines and pretty rhymes
that I string together, one-by-one,
well this one rocks and bops a bit,
but it's meant to be sung like it's written;
maybe I'm crazy, baby, but I might be smitten;
but that won't stop me one little bit,
that won't tear me away from this pen,
and all the things that need to be written,
all the words yet set down, end-to-end:
the short ones, the long ones,
the mirthful and morose;
the ones that say I need you,
and the ones that draw you close;
that's just what
silly old romantics do.
February 13, 2009.
Copyright ♥ 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.