Oh, Tell Her
Oh, tell her that she’s beautiful
lithe and fluid on the run
her oh so cunning brush of hair
a perfumed brush of coming near.
Tell her of my longing moan
of lonely howl of aching heart
lest she forget we have a date
Tomorrow – dog park – after eight.
©9/29/2019
Realism Art Poetry Contest
Eve Roper - sponsor
Copyright © John Lawless | Year Posted 2019
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