Lonely Poetess

She sits at her computer,
Night after night. 
Feverishly typing,
Until the dawn's light. 

Her passion is real,
Like her dreams. 
Filled with conviction,
And magical schemes. 

Knight in shining armor,
To take her away.
Carry her off,
Into a bright, new day. 

Her poems are vivid,
And filled with her light. 
The better to charm,
Her bright, shining knight. 

And if he responds by email,
To answer her plight. 
A flurry of messages,
Seals love at first sight. 

Alas, life is not magic,
And the fairy tale isn’t true. 
The slob, lout, ... jerk!
Just wants to hit on you. 

And so you return,
To a lonely night life. 
Turning out poems,
Of troubles and strife. 

And if, perchance,
You fall asleep one night. 
Dream not of trouble,
Dream not of plight.

Go down by the meadow,
Go down by the glen.
Open your basket,
And let nature in.

Let nature ravish you,
Take it all in.
There’s nothing unnatural.
In natural sin.

And if a lad happens by,
One bright, shining day.
Open your basket,
Invite him to play.

Pining and whining,
Won’t get your way.
When love comes along,
Like a bright, shining day.

Portriat of a lonely poetess

Copyright 2003 © Ronald W. Hull



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