Honey-Child That Sweet-Spun Gift, You Don'T Want To Miss

Honey-Child That Sweet-Spun Gift, You Don't Want To Miss She cried, "Please write a sonnet that bites my butt" Dear poet, I give you whiskey, my mouth stays shut With that you may be lucky, I send a french kiss Honey-child that sweet-spun gift, you don't want to miss! In it I place marsh-mellow licks and tiger hugs Bring you a chocolate cake with magical bugs A fifth of devil red wine and a cigar too No end to the sex-fun, that night things we shall do Let sonnet lick my pretty butt, as you taste it I will go crazy mad, I'll have a raging fit Dear, let it rhyme and send my sexy brain aloft Make it hotter than exploding sun and so soft Give me romantic verses, I care not the costs I want whole movie, in our love, I get true lost! Poem had better be sweet as a hot peach pie. I'll be so naked it will lacerate your eyes! Robert J. Lindley, 16 verse sonnet NOV. 7TH, 1973 Note: This poem was written for my beautiful girlfriend Alisa. But she went to California to visit her father and never came back. So, I never gave it to her. I had forgotten about it until I found it in these poems recently I found.