Subject: RE: BS: In every thread someone has to be last!
From:
beardedbruce
Date: 21 Jun 10 - 10:07 AM
How about a Marvelish poem?
To My Coy Penpal
Had I but stamps enough, and wit,
This coyness, woman, were not shit.
I would perhaps then wish to write
And of my simple dreams make light.
You in your books might seek to find
Some gem-like phrase; I'd let my mind
Wander to subtle quotes. I'd try
To find some verse to virtue ply;
And you could, if you wish, require
An epic poem to light your fire.
This High Poetic love would grow,
Stanza by stanza, to skill show.
A hundred lines should serve to lend
A likeness of your face; I'd send
Two hundred to adore each tit,
And thousands more, to show my wit.
An ode to least to every part:
Perhaps a sonnet for your heart.
For, woman, you deserve no less,
Nor would I shorter verses bless.
But at my pen I often see
The cost of postage's rising fee:
And all I'll send will be one page -
A verse or two to set a stage
For fond farewells. You will alone
Seek out the verse, now cold as stone,
That I once thought. Then worms shall taste
The letters Post has often raced.
Your green-inked words will turn to dust;
And into scrapbooks, all my lust.
A poem's a fine and fancy thing,
But does not quite reveal love's sting.
Now therefore, while the chance remains
To meet again without the pains,
And while our letters can still find
Each of us without other binds,
Now let us think that we might play
With more than words, at least today:
Rather than wait until the years
Have chewed us up with all our fears,
Let us now risk an evening's time
Without the bother of this rhyme,
And see if what we each desire
Might match, and thus our pens retire.
Thus though we cannot make our mail
Show thought, yet we can souls empale.
27/2/78
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sj
