She begins to swoon when Timberwolves croon
a lost lovers tune to their goddess moon.
When a handsome loon begs his mate to spoon
in late afternoon, she blushes maroon.
One day very soon, she'll burst our balloon
for poisons we've strewn, which nothing's immune.
For contest: Rhymers delight-internal momorhyme
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Copyright © Arlene Smith | Year Posted 2017