Infatuation's All Hands On Stations Gig Antic_ipations
What's love? above all hand in glove,
with statement missionary,
twinned turtle dove, no pressure, shove,
precisions scission scary.
Infatuate calls bluff, seals fate,
romantic airy-fairy
from single state anticipate?
semantic se[a]men hairy?
Is limerence mind's self-defence
'gainst harsh realities,
as urge intense to merge makes sense,
what's real? weal’s wheel? reel tease!
With no offence from off the fence
analysis essential
of present tense, or past, immense
gap trap zaps existential.
If Jane's found plain, explains in vain
Beauty lies in beholder,
eye S. Stone's veins, varicious pain,
sigh ‘fortune favours bolder’.
If Callipyge starvation siege
sets to forms round, inviting,
she'll see her liege-lord disalliege
script tipped for strip rewriting.
Some feel ideal is Emma Peel,
James Bond is others' magnet,
with Bluebeard's wives - all seven - strives
double-o-seven drag net.
His armour bright that shines tonight
tomorrow may turn tarnish,
Sweet kitten sprite may scratch with spite
despite delightful varnish.
Well-shaven bloke who volumes spoke
through two eyes - size gigantic -
may lose through spoke, or end up broke,
drown crown in mid-atlantic.
Both well-trimmed beard, job highly geared,
complete with cash abundant
may find decks cleared, despised or feared,
off-course divorced, redundant.
[...] Read more
poem by Jonathan Robin (29 August 2009)
Added by Poetry Lover
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