i.
The poet doth not loveth
In pocket-sized increment's;
The poet loveth
In lyrical abundance.
ii.
The sonneteer doth not dieth
For his or her amour' in natural death;
The bard's succumbing is purest loving
For their soulmate they perish every last breath.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 6:57 PM UTC
i.
The poet doth not loveth
In pocket-sized increment's;
The poet loveth
In lyrical abundance.
ii.
The sonneteer doth not dieth
For his or her amour' in natural death;
The bard's succumbing is purest loving
For their soulmate they perish every last breath.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
A real poet dies for his or her love... That is real romance.... That is a poet!!!
