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.
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