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Andreas Simic Apr 2018
Stumbling to find the words
To ask her out that first time
Stomach like curds
Finding that right line

When yes was her reply
Joy and excitement on my face
My emotions sky high
The heart beginning to race

Oft to a dinner royale we do go
Conversation and wine ensues
Eyes meet and smiles exchange, she's it I know
Drawing to an end was getting the blues

The bill arrives and it was quite a lot
Then the realization my wallet I forgot

Andreas SimicĀ©
Wrote this sonnet for a poetry contest
Brittle Bird Apr 2015
Oh, I love so many peoples' words
They make me feel like I'm not alone
But my own feel like whey and curds
Sometimes good, but usually just fine
To be saved for a sucky nursery rhyme
Day 8 of NaPoWriMo.
Little Miss Muffet
Sits not on a tuffet
But on a Le Corbusier chair.

Curds and whey
Are not for her
As she is a vegan
And rarely eats between meals.

Along comes Spiderman,
Sits down on a sedan
And questions her
On all things entomological
And graphic novels.

And do you know what?

She is not afraid at all!

— The End —