I had to always prove/
that she was my muse,/
because she couldn’t, /
(or wouldn’t,)/
through mere haikus.
I had to always prove/
that she was my muse,/
because she couldn’t, /
(or wouldn’t,)/
through mere haikus.
Will you teach me,
and let me see
how you’ll reach me
without poetry.
Send your smile
from your sweet face.
Rest your gaze awhile;
fill my empty space.
Talk to me deep
with dulcimer tones.
In my mind creep
through touch, computers, phones.
Then, at last, when we again meet,
I’ll savor your wisdom with no repeat.
Sometimes I think in/
haikus. Sometimes I think in/
Blues. Sometimes I rhyme.
I can’t take credit for beauty’s Creation,/
but I will acknowledge my observation./
I view and grasp glory sans hesitation,/
from the grandest sunrise to the smallest crustacean./
Sometimes, I can feel His frustration/
as others walk the world in blind libation.
You think I write in form letters?
Would a poetic response be better?
Or would you prefer
something more demure?
I wonder: “What sort of letter would get her?” *(8:16 pm)
There!
A limerick.
It was pretty slick.
But do you care?
It’s probably the only one
you’ll ever get!
And you can think it fun,
but I’ll still bet
if I gave you my number,
you’d still slumber.
Would you call me?
I’ll try it and see!
XXX-YYY-ZZ22.
Now, let’s see what you’ll do.
Another Solution Limerick
You could give me YOUR phone number
and before I slumber,
I’d call you,
and then we two
could do something sans blunder!
I was so glad to/
be able to say something,/
I didn’t let you.