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Slowing - or, A Love Poem with Eggs and Short Lines (Lyric) by zodiac My love, she has
astonishing ways
of slowing, when
the eggs are done
and I'm bug-spas-
ming in my skin -
and who ever was
who liked cold eggs?
My love, she tips
the change-dish off
the curio, when
she'd rather stay in
she frets, she doffs
her dress again
or finds my lips
not fast enough.
She says, don't think me a fool for this;
I know exactly what time it is.
Up the ladder:
End of year poem
Down the ladder:
Sonnet
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 8.428572
Posted: February 9, 2005 6:10 AM PST; Last modified: May 31, 2005 6:08 AM PDTWeighted score: 5.922085 Overall Rank: 1413 Comments:
Closing lines:
'Don't think me a fool for this she says I know exactly what time it is.' Unless you consider the two-line consistency a holy must? 'or find my lips not fast enough. She says don't think me a fool for this I know exactly what time it is.'
Zo I love this poem.
I love the change of heart, I knew there was another side of you that was senitive 347 view(s)
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For my part, yes, there was a change of heart. Right around the dress-doffing and kissing part.