by Fanz Hugo

‘Tis the second spring since thou be my wife
Passion grows as hot as the summer gives
Thou art now to me what water to life
No longer do hearts drift like autumn leaves
Thou art the flowers on the window pane
And that cute rare nostalgic doorway cat
Who walks in beauty down the walking lane
Who wears that grayish British newsboy hat
For thirteen months I’ve been given thy love
If by mail, it’d have crammed the letter box
Told on the whistle of the urban dove
Fascinated by thy small colorful socks
How I wish to be your spicy cookbook
Whenever seen, I see thy loving look

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