Spag. Bol. Poem by john robson
Spag. Bol.
We sat opposite
and prepared to dine.
God how i wanted to make you mine.
My conscience battled wrong versus right,
but oh, what a wonderful and perfect sight.
My eyes feasted on a banquet of beauty,
and my heart grew fat on wanting.
or was it all that Spag. Bol. I ate?
Friday, February 12, 2021
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5/5/2024 3:29:29 AM # 1.0.0.1119
