This little lass
hasn't found the one yet.
I send forward this letter to the future.
Timer set. Clock ticking.
To the beloved.
Unaware, innocently minding his business.
To you Sir, may this thunder bolt strike you.
A poem i write to our becoming.
I hope we resemble in aspirations,
In passion, in all that we do.
Let us breathe from our soul.
We do what we do, as we love it.
May romeo and Juliet.
May bonnie and clyde.
As we yawn.
As we bicker
May we bicker as Benedict and Beatrice.
Or better ourselves as the Hatchards.
Who wouldn't love a man
Who would burn the dance floor?
A ballroom dance
As courtly as Victorians.
You maybe seducing coffee.
Im i don't mind at all.
I pray you turn out this way.
Or god help you dear Sir.
Cupid has forgotten
To grace me with his archery skills.
If we fall in love, Sir.
I hope we fall in love as an equal.