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Here I post an older poem I wrote once for my girl. I do not know if it is of any interest to thee, and it is just roughly translated.
My dearest love; my hearts desire. My sweetest dove, my heartīs on fire. Thou art my love, thou art my life, thine looks, thine eyes, thine smell, makes me wanting thee to tell that I want thee to be my wife. From now to all eternity I will be always loving thee. |
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you old crooner you.
watch him when he starts to croon He makes all the ladies swoon Hos poetry contains such beauty, The ladies think him such a cutie And though it might make wimmen flush I just think it's soppy mush (not really, but I wanted to have a funny ending) ------------------ More Irn Bru !!!! |
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The skill with words which Anon has
Is what makes him unique. If you tried to get guys copying him I think that they'd all freak For no man thinks another man can teach him about wooing Evry man is blinkered, says he "knows just what he's doing" Maranatha, Diane ? "The Lord comes" ? ------------------ More Irn Bru !!!! |
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