I love Sydney, and Marlow,
And often I borrow
Their words to express how I feel.
I love poems of mystery,
Fantasy, history,
Oh what seductive appeal.
At night, alone in my bedroom,
Satisfying my need.
The candlelight fire ignites my desire,
To read
Oh, every time I hear a perfect rhyme I get all tingly
Because I know,
That to find a perfect rhyme is not an easy, thingly.
I love places that words let me go
I love the way that your words move me so
No words have touched me the way that yours do
And I love…you are really doing something to me mister poetry man
Oh forgive me, I never get to discuss poems in this way
Oh it's okay,
I just never knew that poetry could affect someone the way it affects me
Me neither
It's the end all, the be all.
Oh, you ought a see all the books that I have on my shelf
Me too
I find pleasure perusing those writings
And musing so often I pleasure myself
Wait, that didn't sound right
No, I know what you mean
When I'm deep in the throes of impassionate prose,
I could scream
You scream?
Yeah
So do I! Ahh
Oh, I love a lilting line of lyrical alliteration.
Who doesn't love alliteration?
And then I'm like well,
When the phrases come together like a consummation
It's sweet elation
I love the places that words let me go,
I love the way that your words move me so
I love, that you feel, the same way I do
And I love,
You know that I love,
You know that I love,
Me too!