She plucked a blossom fair to see;
Upon my coat I let her pin it;
And thus we stood beneath the tree
A minute.
She turned her smiling face to me;
I saw a roguish sweetness in it;
I kissed her once;—it took, maybe,
A minute.
The time was paltry, you’ll agree;
It took but little to begin it;
But since my heart has not been free
A minute.
The poem was excellent as I started to begin it. Thoroughly amused as I finished, I realized all it took was a minute.
Excellence and imagination all wrapped up together in a bright poetry bow.