To lunch with my pretty girlfriend,
It was bowled over by her,
Immediately it started to flirt with her,
Flickering it's metaphors coyishly at her ,
Referring to her as a rose bud in blossom .
She blushed shyly as the corner of her mouth broke into a delicious smile,
Before I had a chance,
It read my poetry I had wriiten for her,
Adding  sweet nothings to it,
It was as if Emily Dickison was reciting poetry,
As it finished the last verse,
She clutched it in her hands,
Tears of joy in her moist eyes,
Then she turned to me and softly asked,
"Can I take it home with me,"
Leaving me no choice but to nod,
My poetry had beaten me in the game of love.
12/3/2025