Good Morning
With the small flirty pleatsShe flounces.
There is the ever near fear
Of pounces with this baby girl
Painted and mouthed to my
Weekend.
Innocently
With no sense escaping
She insists upon moving
To declare her sweet beliefs
Which of course are written
In stone...nope I'm wrong!
That's channel number five!
How innocent and sweet
She is.
How I want to keep her sleeping
Just for so long...
I shall of course invite her
To fully wake up
It is our delightful duty to
Bid ourselves to declare
Good morning.
Here there be no boys.
And you are going nowhere.
Poetry by jenks

Read 1161 times

Written on 2009-09-30 at 05:12




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