'Every word is true' you said
As you strode upstairs to bed.
You've been wined with white and red
And have slipped inside my head.
Soon you'll slip inside my bed
Winely dined and finely fed,
Leaving notes inside my head,
'Every word is true, ' you said.
Linda's blue but roses fed
With violet blues make love, you said,
Proving purple in my bed,
'Every word is true, ' you said.
Violets violate my bed
Finely strung with roses red,
Thus my strings for you are bled,
'Metaphors are true, ' I said.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem