June 02, 2005 = Wannabe Cassanova


The moonlight so bright, glimmers in twilight,

glancing off, your sweet brow,

creamy delight, framed by your mane,

of luxuriant, glossy black hair,

tender eyes looking my way, contemplating,

things, i may never know,

the truth is, as much as i long,

to be with you, remaining far,

i am unworthy, of such beauty,

of both mannerisms, and superficially,

as much as i adore, those lips in the twilight,

glistening with promise, gleaming in the night,

thinking what words, would spout,

clear and true, thro’ the parting of,

your graceful lips, serenading me,

my darling Juliet, to me a Romeo,

but you remain a dream, mere thoughts in my head

making this true, be my wish fulfilled,

but for now i’d leave, my words on the cliff,

as i have not the Juliet, i can sing to.


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