Because my husband knows that my love language is language, he wrote this poem for me. It made me very happy, and I'm sharing it with his permission.
Lonely Russian women want me badly.
So badly that they send emails (to me
And others) in sensual perfect English
Pleading, begging, repeatedly asking
If they can satisfy my every whim
And fantasy. I haven’t answered yet
And I’m feeling sorry for the lonely,
Frustrated women who desperately write
Such longing letters offering themselves
To me. And so I’m tempted to reach out
And share my long-held deep desires, my view
Of flourishing, bliss, joy, and happiness:
A mug of steaming coffee, piping hot
Sipped in a room that’s over-filled with books.
And by my side, a lovely girl named Ruth,
My fantasy, and that’s the honest truth.
by Steve, husband of Ruth, from thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com
The Progressive Poem is nearing its end, and Michelle has today's line.
Today's roundup is here.
Hasn't it been a great National Poetry Month? I know I've enjoyed it. Here's to poetry, all year long!
3 hours ago