He, the broke walrus,/
dreams of luring the nymph. [LAUGH!] /
Yet I played that game.
Tag Archives: romantic poetry
A Love Who Snores: Rhyming Haiku
I have a love who
snores, but she adores me. How’d
I get so lucky?
No Pillow Talk: Haiku Lament
Another man’s voice
droans through her headphones. There’s no
time for pillow talk.
Non-read Response = Nothing to Say: Iambic IM Poem Lament
She’s got nothin’ to say.
In my loneliness I can tell,
I’m under her spell,
But her checkmark is grey.*
[*Facebook instant messenger has a blue check when the message is read, a grey check when it hasn’t been read.]
Which Way: Late Night Romantic IMprov Haiku
Late at night I find/
myself wondering which path/
to take to reach her.
Bad Memory Updated: Haiku
Close Not The Door Piano: ImproVerse Free Verse
When she plays piano
down the hall,
often she closes the door
so I can’t hear
or be distracted.
Tonight, though,
the door is wide open
as she caresses keys,
improv,
a Church hymn
about space and time
travel.
Each note
takes space
and hangs in the hallway
timeless,
for an eternity,
and I feel myself,
with her,
wrapped in the notes
like a robe
we can share.
As she crosses hands
and moves fingers,
does she know
how that music
(and knowing the words)
fills my head,
my heart,
my soul,
with visions of we,
us,
being there,
in eternal mansions?
Does she feel
that she wants to be
enfolded
with me
for time
and all eternity?
Dear God:
Please let it be so,
that when we are old
and come to dust,
she and I can still hold hands
and sing notes
about
No end
to beauty;
No end
to Love;
No beginning
nor end;
No death above.
Please let us
be so joined
as we hie toward
Your mansion
somewhere good,
in Kolob’s neighborhood.
Hieing To Kolob Piano IMproVerse Romantic Haiku
She riffs a fav’rite/
song. We’ll hie to Kolob. Love/
has no start, no end.
Don’t Wake Sleeping Beauty Getting Up: ImproVerse Haiku
She’s so deep in her/
Nirvana I hate to wake /
her. I must get up.
Why I Don’t Write About Her: Romantic ImproVerse Haiku
Its true: I don’t write/
my deep feelings for her. They’re/
too mushy and sweet.