EVERYBODY IS A POET

 

                                  

              My last wife complained that I never wrote her poetry.

                                             So, I did.

                            A POEM A DAY FOR THREE DAYS

                                                  

DAY ONE

A sonnet, song, poetic verse
I've promised that I would converse
About a subject unsurpassed
What other but your beauteous ass

To compare of course would be a start
But thinking, would that be so smart
For what would compare
To what is there
So sumptuously
Behind loves lair

Failing else compare I'll try
Like poets through the ages I
Will look for things up in the sky
For wondrous things are there
That may compare
To what you bare
Behind your lovely lair

A lunar reference might suffice
Though round and shines with inner light
It wanes, it's cold, there's no delight
Far, untouchable in the night
It's not as nice
And to be suggestive of my subject
Needs be seen twice as through unfocused eyes
An image of two sensuous orbs side by side
With a hint, a dark and secret path
Still not as nice or adorned with
Simple elegance
Of flesh as your enigmatic ass

Stars, nebulous and galaxies strewn
Across the sky
Like shards of twinkling broken glass
Have been used to describe things
Much less phenomenal
Than your delicate ass

So there's nothing I can find
To compare and bring to mind
That of which I speak alas
Your fine young supple Elysian ass


DAY TWO


You'll find upon further perusal
That this rhyme has no definite use all
Though if you've some time to expend
A smile may result in the end

I shall dedicate this little ditty
To a particularly cute little titty
Though pert in a shirt I'm sorry to say
At the beach it's decidedly gritty

At this point it may well behoove me
To explain why there's only one booby
In my narration there's no explanation
I just said it like that so sue me

It's certainly plain to me
Pleasurably plain to see
That there are two
Less wouldn't do
And you'd terribly unbalanced with three

Although of course you're aware
I'm enamored of your derriere
My delight at that end isn't more so
Than that I derive from your torso

Now I've revealed your attributes from end to end
Laid you graphically bare with my mighty pen
But one lingering mystery we've yet to explore
For that my pen rests as I pick up my sword


DAY THREE


At last this trilogy expended
The fore adored, the aft upended
Leaving but the hinterland
To speak of and appraise

The blossoms having been applauded
Pistils, petals, stems and all its
Splendor offered freely
In a quite poetic way

Would you believe that deep within that flower
Unsuspected lies a dowry
that's known to me
And possibly a few

A warm and secret place
Of hidden pleasures there awaits
The ones whose passions and desires
Bid them pass through

I my self have entered
Through the portals of the hinterland
I speak of and have lain secure
In fetal like repose

A hint of déjà vu
A haven, new but not so new
A salmon instinct like returning
To a place a man must go

Deep within the depths
With fragrant petals I'm caressed
Rewards of ecstasy surrounding
All I am

Let me now suggest
That in preceding poems I jest
Although believe me my appreciation stands
Of those things enjoyed aesthetically
But with this last soliloquy
I give appreciation
As a man