The night was young, the wine was old,
inside was warm, outside was cold.
The dance was slow, and I was bold.
My heart beat fast. Her hair was gold.
My two hands...... were on her waist.
Her two eyes said...“make haste, make haste.'
If YOU envy me, then drop a load;
pick up a “babe” where dolls are sold.
(August 28,2013)
Ah! no any questions! ! ! ! ! Very romantic! ! ! ! ! Smilings here! ! !
Hi Bri what kind of dolls are you speaking of i just worry you will end up in the dog house on a permanent basis. enjoyed reading as usual
wow! so sweet a poem it is, it is your credit to write this kind poetry...and i must say this style is different from your earlier most of the poems.. kudos.. i love it
i forgot to include in my poet note that, when i wrote the poem in a paper notebook several months ago, i wrote waste instead of waist. how many of you would have corrected me, I WONDER. :)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Bri You did not waste ink on this poem.nice work