Surely there is more possessed
than a soft smile
and knowing eyes,
and any soul is counted blessed
to know your wiles
and what else resides
in the honeyed morass that makes you you.
Yet, there seems no way, with wit and tact,
to express what I think
of an amorous call
while not being drawn to the obvious fact
that you make my drink
and really, that is all.
Another usual in the daily milieu.
Another world perhaps rejoices
in a time, a place, a pair who see
the flowing multitude of choice
beyond coffee and tea.
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 9:43 PM UTC
Surely there is more possessed
than a soft smile
and knowing eyes,
and any soul is counted blessed
to know your wiles
and what else resides
in the honeyed morass that makes you you.
Yet, there seems no way, with wit and tact,
to express what I think
of an amorous call
while not being drawn to the obvious fact
that you make my drink
and really, that is all.
Another usual in the daily milieu.
Another world perhaps rejoices
in a time, a place, a pair who see
the flowing multitude of choice
beyond coffee and tea.
Request permission to use this poem