You can't write a poem about morning farts (Villanelle)

Fear not the morning fart, my sweeting,
though its stench be foul, its noise is bright;
it calls to you in friendly greeting.

At dawn, I feel its efforts heating,
concocted through the depths of night;
fear not the morning fart, my sweeting.

Its time with you is all too fleeting,
smile gently and do not take fright -
it calls to you in friendly greeting.

Ripe and ready for our meeting,
it awaits the early light;
fear not the morning fart, my sweeting.

Ofttimes I cannot help repeating
its song so rousing yet polite;
it calls to you in friendly greeting.

Last night I did some overeating,
the sausage curry sat not right.
Fear not the morning fart, my sweeting,
it calls to you in friendly greeting.