You ask me why I love you?
Why not ask the sun why...

To speak of my muse,
takes prose of a poet...

If only you could see the darkness,
stalking in my mind...

I stare and wonder,
how could anything so beautiful exist...

When you know she's the smile on your face, the...
Then...

Where are you love?
Are you sleeping...

Think not for a moment,
that you've snared a poets heart...

I wish that I could tell you
but I don't know what you'd do...

My love is like a red,red rose bursting into flame
Everyone can see it, yet you refuse to speak its...

On St's Eve I sit here and grieve
my caring and wanting of you...

To hell with poetic devices
Pain down my throat like too many spices...

One more time, love
let me hold your hand...