Like a winning throw of the dice
Spenser and Frost melt my ice.
And from their poetic device I find advice
About lips on fire, each woman's wish and desire.
Once my heart was knifed like a melon slice
And fears from my heart to my head do arise.
Not just once, but twice and thrice...
I feel caught in a trap like cheese and greedy mice.
I ask myself: can polar bears survive with no snow and ice?
Or the Far East where each meal is served without rice?
Not only once, but twice and thrice...
It took Frost and Spencer to splice
My torn heart back together with desire
And seek once more a woman's fire.
My luck has changed like wining throw of the dice
Not only once but also twice and thrice...
Now I count my blessings from each grain of rice
Showered our wedding day and it felt very nice.
Where my bride pledged her love to me once and twice
And I pledged back my heart to her once, twice and thrice.
Lips on fire are now my woman's desire
And her love thaws my ice with her fire.
To be human after all by Spencer told,
I'm prone once in a while to a winter's cold
But now I do not wonder about the taste of spice
Or I need Frost or Spenser for poetic advice.
If misfortune or bad luck follow my eve's light demise
One soft kiss or one look from her eyes brightens my skies.
In my heart of heart I know her heart is on fire
And will always melt in mine any new-formed ice.
Her golden Sun is my heart's hope and will always rise
Each morning when I wake up and I look into her eyes.
October 1th 2012
Copyright Leaking Pen 2012
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem