Be my poem and we can show them
There’s more to life than magic carpet rides
Taken through rolled-up skies
Be my poem and it could all just be,
Life’s not too long or too short-
It’s a small, tall and stately bottle of port.
Be my poem and you shall be more than just words,
You shall know my punctuation- my stops and pauses
All my adverbs and sub-clauses.
Be my poem and there will be critics;
If you think it’s worth the red ink that’s sure to spill,
Then give it a think, if you will.
Be my poem and there will be little rhythm;
If that’s what you’re into then I’m afraid you’re two to too many syllables down and out.
But if you like the rhymes then do them with me, and we can find what we’re all about.
Be my poem and plain sailing weather may be the case, or another storm for us to face
But I don’t take kindly to being left alone and neither do you
I saw you and you saw me alone in that crowded room, so we know it’s true.
Be my poem and we will know our words
And never be stuck to leapfrog from one to the next
And never again keep our literary muscles flexed.
Be my poem and I’m sorry if it sounds desperate, but someone has to be
But we both know that things end badly when they don’t begin
And good ideas look promising before they turn to sin.