The Nose Poem by Gary McDonald

Why do men never speak of the nose
I ask myself, as she does smile
a slender slither of the smoothest skin
that secludes the eye and shadows the smile
the central feature of beauty's design
my eyes never leave, lest they not find

To describe her nose without its sneeze
would be to see a rose without its petals
for when that wrinkle grabs her cheek
and her mouth does escape a little squeak
my ears and eyes and all that binds them
do shiver when her nose's warmth does find them.