POEM FOR LOVER BIRDS.

IF THIS NUT IS NOT


If I'll have no chance to talk again,
This I'm about to say is big a gain,
I'll mix it not, I'll make it plain,
Like the story of Abel and that of Cain,

Stories of good lovers have been told,
And they catch hearts as winter's cold,
But this story I'm about to unfold,
Will last through heat and winter's cold,

They've said Juliet was beautiful,
And Cinderella's was incomparable,
And they were like Lincoln's parables;
Sweet, perfect, true and beautiful,

But I've found a beauty that drowns the moon's,
That shines in dark above glittering noons,
That breaks men macho and shivers their hearts;
Stabs their courage like well sharpened darts,

Her love is an amulet for eternity;
So strong to revive men from fossil entity,
For her beauty is beyond earth's ARTmen craft,
And her voice is worth angles' draft,

Like the plague in city of Eyam;
So strong like the Bible's I AM
If I've no chance to talk about this,
I'd waited for zillion years upon diss,

I may not have the moon to give,
Nor the stars to dish out,
I may have no wool to weave
An embroidered cloth to give out,

But I have me and my wordages,
And the pen bleeding itself,
That hangs in my archaic shelf,
To give wisdom and adages,

And I've got nothing but you,
Much precious than the heaven's yew,
And this is why I say to lots,
That if this nut is not, then, I'm not.

(C) HYBRID