From America With Love

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Contributor: Keith Fuchs

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This is no scrimmage,
I envisage, scrounging some tips
To take a trip in to the dew
To bask in the sight of you.
You'd appear especially fair,
You've let down your mahogany hair.
Straight strands or in a plait or mane prepared.
Either way, you will be alluring and grand.
The color of your iris match the hue of tee-shirt or blouse.
Elegantly dressed, with a matching skirt or pant.
Your lips are soft, sweet and wet
With your nose bantam and perky
Courteously set.
Your face ought to be painted in portrait,
For it is a work of art, every moment I get
To behold it's beauty resplendent.
Your smile is homely and cordial
A constant reminder, I'm mortal.
For I conceive why I was born,
To forlorn the embark of such an ethereal species.
To understand that it is she,
That gives life meaning.
As I sleep, i do not count sheep,
I formulate, the steps to take
To arrive in her brace.
In a distant courtyard, a far
I envision commandeering a car,
Over rolling hills and grassy knolls,
Under overcast skies, as the gale blows.
A misty drizzle soaks the lonely road
Cobblestone footbridges over creeks that trickle and flow.
I traveled a great span,
Seeking your sister's hand.
Your cousin, your niece
She awaits in the terrace cloister,
At the circle, down the close.
There, the botany and posy prosper
You can recite her various titles,
Only one fits her proper.
My love, she is the jewel in my chest.
My heart which flutters, twitch and compress.
Upon the scent of her, I'm rapturous.
Madam Lissy, you and I should be together.
Our love can blossom in inclement weather.
Shine when it's pleasant and turn knees to feathers.
Let us not dwell on our shortcomings.
I love you too much and you love me.
So dearest Alison, can't you see?
It should always be, you and me.

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