Corny Love Poem Poem by richardo posto

 My lady,

Thou art such a fine lassy as never have I beheld.

Who taught thee how to walk with such a swish?

Does thou rest thy head  without a kiss?

Then I blow one. In my passion,

with thoughts of you,   I hold close,  

deep into nite's kitchen of soups devine and love's wine,

Come so together we may dine, until morning light awakens all others,

but lovers, a night of passion behind, morning calls gently to sleep.

Fair warning I give, that my eyes may devour your

image, so elegently curved, if ever you grace my castle door  once more.

Dance, while  I proposition thee,   wont ye be mine?   

Can you feel the  light of my desire

guiding you, love, to my awaiting shore.