Payment

To what do I owe this pleasure,
In every passage, every measure,
In every stolen moment we
Capture the essence of the free.

To whom do I pay the toll?
The fee in which I must enroll,
That I might spend another dime,
And in return gain yet more time.

To which must I settle tab,
For that which I most gladly have,
Where might I pay reciept,
Cosign the form of destiny?

How can I make recompense,
What can I give as equal gift?
What is more precious than that to thee,
The love we share most equally.

Facetious

I own your soul, I control your mind,
Given to me in half a rhyme.
Hear my poems, and you succumb
To the rhyming riff of cheek in tongue.

Melodious strains strain ears so pure,
As he sings a melody off key, for sure,
And says he loves and loves what he says,
He plays, he pushes, he knows what's best.

Best for who? Well him of course,
Silly girl, pretend what's worse.
Let him think he's in control,
Then wipe the snot off his nose.

Snot nosed brat, yes that's him,
Lovely ditty to sing to them,
Play the music on your lute,
Oh Endymion, she knows, forsooth.

Hide, sweet shepherd boy,
Playing to be a Goddess' toy,
A sex object from afar,
Who kisses fire, sweetness part.

Court ye, your maiden moon,
Pretend to cuddle, have her swoon,
And fall from the sky in dead of noon,
This Goddess pure who loves only you.

Sweet melody, a waltz perchance,
Whilst stars and fortune gather to dance,
And the Fates get drunk by the big punch bowl,
And play with the lives of the garden gnomes.

Alas, Alack, poor youthful maid,
Who, in a moment, is unsafe,
And in the next is all too proud,
This maid, this crone, this witch aloud.

I own your soul, I control your mind,
Given to me in half a rhyme.
Hear my poems, and you succumb
To the rhyming riff of cheek in tongue.

So, here it is, plain and simple,
You wanted beauty, and you got a pimple.

Ode to the Cookie

Oh temptress, thou art soft and sweet,
Divinity is in your kiss.
If only in my dreams we meet,
Then all my life has been a bliss.
Why must I contain my joy?
Why can I not shout your name?
Why must you be so coy?
And why must I feel such shame?
How blind these other fools must be,
How in faith they are the rookie,
If not my love affair can see,
My love be only a chocolate cookie.

Unknown

Oh, thy lips form endless phrase,
On whom to bestow thine praise?
On what face or smile so sweet,
In what time should ye entreat?

And thus, the world is in the tow,
No love affair, nor grander show,
Could sweep thee from thine worldly feet,
And in what time should ye retreat?

The call of lonely darker child,
Formed in the heart so black and wild,
Could make thee lose thine buckled seat,
And in what time should ye entreat?

That ye should bear the withered bow,
Or of the apple truth should know?
How fine and fair the first elite,
And in what time should ye retreat?

Gone from the world in heated haze,
Dashed in blinding blow and daze,
Crawl from the ashes in the street,
This is the time for your entreat.

Raise thine lips and eyes to love,
Call out for those left up above.
The world in brightness spinning fleet,
This glow we call the grand retreat.