When I hold your hand/
can you stand/
a butterfly’s wings,/
(delicate, tender things,)/
unfolding as it fans?
Tracing across your palm and wrist?
Dancing lightly, like a butterfly’s kiss?
And then matching fingers’ gentle trace?
Moving up from your hand to cup your face?
Can you tolerate hand holding that grand?
If you can,
I might yet be your man.
Woman, alone, danced./
Solo, I (in balcony),/
watched and joined with her.
So much was written/
already about silence,/
there’s not much to say.
Or
there’s not more to say.
Moonlite slatted through/
blinded windows and barren /
trees makes me lonely.
The advantage of/
IMing while eating? You /
can talk with full mouth.
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.
Sometimes, in my zest/
and joy for life, joie de vive/
brings stupidity.
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!