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Poem
To be in love with a poet
Is not an easy thing
Try as you might, you will never
Live up to his dream

For the poet isn’t content
With love’s status quo
You please and you tease him
But it’s not enough you know

For living there in his mind
Is a picture of the divine
You know that he longs for her
For it's shown in every line

The woman of perfection
Who is not of this world
With raven tresses of hair
A passion flower unfurled

The poet “sees” this woman
And his senses just take leave
For her love is deep, intense
Her body rivals that of Eve

She is tender and she’s giving
Never asking in return
She waits for him night and day
And for his love she burns

She nurtures his desire
Fulfills his every whim
For she is his possession
Remains faithful just to him

She sees in him embodied
Every single manly trait
Each and every need of his
She’s sure to satiate

Ah…mere mortal woman
Who must compete with this muse
You find that you fall short
And your love’s prone to abuse

For who can dare compare
With a poet’s romantic dream
The siren who sings to him
Who floats on clouds of cream

Poor lover of the poet
Sitting all alone at night
Waiting for him to see you
and your needs to ignite

Love him, my sweet, love him
For in the end...he’s just a man
That silly muse of his dreams
Can’t caress him, but you can

So win him at this love game
Make the fires really burn
Try to enchant his mind
So that for YOU it will yearn

Warn that charming seductress
That muse who tries hard to woo
That you have a jealous heart
And you've made him drink your brew

Your body, your soul, your desires
Bathe him in all of these
Not with words but your hands
Make him to do just what you please

For a poet is just a man
Just a simple man is he
Grant him all he desires
Only then he'll set you free!

Jade
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