Treasure Island

David Wood

(07 April 1950 / London)

Sonnet 37: Those Sweet Lips That Nature Designed For Thee


Those sweet lips that nature designed for thee
Made especially for love and kissing
Does now with harsh words sorely rebuke me
Love in your heart is now surely missing.
Oh, what have I now done to earn thy wrath?
Was it what I said about thy mother
That more often she needs to take a bath
And now you will go and tell thy brother.
But my sweet, I jest, surely thou dost know
Thy sweet mother is always in my heart,
The ends of the earth I would surely go
For her joy I would always play the part.
Mothers-in-law are always a treasure
But do not incur thy wife’s displeasure.

Submitted: Thursday, July 04, 2013
Edited: Thursday, July 04, 2013
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Poet's Notes about The Poem

I jest!

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