A Poet's Love © Poem by Roann Mendriq

The poet's love was deep intense,
He loved his love with passion fire;
His love was worship, pure incense,
He loved his love with deep desire.

He wrote a Sonnet on her eyes
An Ode about her chiselled chin;
Ballads on how she'd tantalise,
to light his soul from deep within.

He wrote about the way she stood,
The light that lit her lovely face;
He wrote about her every mood,
He captured every nuance, grace!

A ream about her hairs cascade
gave eloquence to his romancing,
And all the while his little maid,
yearned to gad about and go out dancing...

'Come my love! ', she coaxed, cajoled,
'Let's leave this dreary old love seat! '
She grabbed his hand (for she was bold!)
She twirled and tapped her pretty feet!

But no! Our poet turned his head,
Pen precariously poised in hand;
He wrote about the day they'd wed,
An Elegy subtle, sweet and grand.

His little maid now nicely miffed,
She lost her cool, got really mad;
She tossed her curls and muttered 'Pfft! ,
Goodbye, you good-for-nothing cad! '

Our poem wrote a Villanelle
about the time they spent apart;
He was lovelorn, you could tell,
as he nursed his broken heart!

He truly loved his love but oh!
He loved writing poetry more...!
©