Spilt Ink
She liked the way
he spilt his ink.
He had such a great pen
and though it was pink
it was big and round and made her think.
He was always ready to write
again and again.
He wrote the best when she was in his sight.
She was the inspiration for all he’d write.
She loved the things he said,
his words a sexy sound.
With his pen in hand he’d lay his words down.
Oh, how his ink would flow
when she laid her paper just below.
He wrote and wrote
‘til her paper was full
and all his ink was spilt.
His motto was:
"Write or bust
with love and lust
'til the paper is 'filt'."
By: Carole O’Terry Duet
Copyright: 3/21/2018
“All Rights Reserved”
Copyright © Carole Duet | Year Posted 2018
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment