Oh the peculiar village,
her eyes carved out
from her visage,
thieved just to
look at the moon
and the stars' lagoon,
for the moon isn't the moon
the night isn't starry,
when not seen from her eyes,
she who seems married,
to the night sky of course.

The sun set on the pash
clouds, dirt and ash,
a little ways down the road,
looking back at the odes,
it'll be remembered
How she brought
a corpse to feeling,
staring, giggling at his ceiling,
how she was winter,
then it rained.

The thespian's dream
a perpetual affair,
stage lights and
the smell of your hair,
for it can be a billion eyes
but that one pair,
is supreme.

Blanket and black coffee
Measly morning chills,
a longing for winter enstilled,
until I met winter in person
and man is she all the thrills.
Time stops when she walks
as if it were a frozen lake,
she smiles like a snowflake
and chuckles like the sun
on a winter day,
I've met winter in person
not having one bad day
anymore.

Lemon tea cake slice
pink orange sunsets,
she's alone with them,
as the sea looks on
with its trinkets,
and so do the pets.
A voice so euphonious,
but it comes at a price,
the night knows her well,
the moons and the stars entice,
a pleasant heart to heart,
must be a great sight.

butterflies and sugar rush
looking at her mane brush,
rustling of novel pages
the endless sea
sat by the porch she,
why?
there's arousal for the causal,
and what followed since?
the fruit seems forbidden
and looks a lot like quince,
the endless sea,
sat by the porch she
where do the waves go
we shall see.

Holily they allied
emerging from the dark,
him and the thespian inside,
the groom and the bride,
so is the story arc.
they whisper and hiss
"He has no one to call his",
well the herd can't be heard
call it marital bliss.
Not with his palms,
not when knelt,
only in his heart
can the missus be felt,
compels him to think
how it must be
to hold and be held,
call it the only miss.