It was end of autumn,
In the yellow garden
playful were u with your own
tail
I was riding my car.
I glanced at you
Glued to the spark of your eye
I barked a sexy Bow!
And you roared BOW WOW!!
2 rounds of seasons down the lane,
Now we are not 2 but 8,
I look like my aunt Piggy,
And my bossom loves da
gravity.
We fought for the bones,
We fought for the stones,
You broke my jaw,
I twisted your tail.
Retired hurt we both come
around,
No more sexy BOW,
No more Roaring BOW WOW!!
We slowly strolled together.
I wipe my nose on your cheeks,
You smile back to me,
Where I don’t have to try
hard,
To say I love you, I love you
a lot.
On your birthday My Pug!
I ll get you a lot of bones,
You get me a lot of stone,
So we don’t fight like cats,
We will make love like horny
cows,
Let there be love and not war,
I am thinking of
Making way from 8 to 12.
( Distracted from my books, I found a poem I wrote for my then boyfriend on his birthday, not bad eh? )
