She said that my prose was prosaic
I loved it when she talked dirty to me
Then I found out what prosaic meant
So I turned to poetry to help me vent
...
I danced in the shadows
Until I was able to dance
...
Daylight denies description
Demanding disregarded data
...
Twas the day we call Christmas
In a rambunctious house
All the kiddies were giggling
They had spotted a mouse
...
She went to Africa. At least that is what she liked to tell me after we made love. To hear her talk about what pleasured her; was for me, a way to understand what Africa was like. You see, she also took me to Africa.
...
A velvet ribbon caressed her hair
In ringlets smooth her face so rare
Her graceful walk bedazzled me
...
The nightmare won’t cease
In my brain nor my mind
I can see vile visions
Of vanity going blind
...
Apart again wordlessly
Unable for both of us to see
Two lives full of pain
Each hoping to gain
...
Timeless lessons in our universe
Too vast is the beauty for a simple verse
How vast are the cosmos within our view
...