All Bout' Er' Poem by Michael Walkerjohn
All Bout' Er'
Beauty easily,
comes apart, from her heart,
as two lips part;
a gentle kiss,
giving you the news, as she leaves,
that you miss her view;
those memories,
past, fade last, as fast as morning mists in the air,
nature's tasks;
in haute couture,
you wear, such airs, unceasingly changing,
you yourself cough;
and get comfortable once again,
thankful, you have the weekend to yourself.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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6/6/2024 7:09:47 PM # 1.0.0.1119
