I Miss You Poem by Patrick Akhudu

Not a day goes to rest
Before I think of you.
My patience is put to test
Till our date is due.

Come here fond thing!
You know I miss to sing
Strumming your codes
And sweet music explodes!

I miss that mellow mood,
A stirred up neighborhood
All milling around me,
Swaying to my song at a fee.

Oh, it soothes our souls!
Your beat reaches our soles,
Every foot taps to the tune
As I reap my sweet fortune.

Ukulele, where are you?
There's a show to do.
When I strum your strings,
You know the bucks it brings.

The melodies of your heart
Heals any human hurt.
Let us do another jig;
The earnings will be big.