A Form of Words
oh love,love me do
with sweet poems,old and new
or odes that ring true
my darling,don't fret,
dearest heart my number one;
see how I've begun
with end rhyme we'll have fun,or
maybe sonnet or tercet
on no,not flowery words
too obscure and seldom heard,
such poetry's no better
than prose by letter
Brian Strand
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