I like the dead of the night
Where I thrive being alive,
The moonlight can be bright
Shining shine which is fine,
I ponder, wonder pensively
Over a chick who’s a Lady,
And I think apprehensively
Of duly a mating possibility
With she whom I do fancy
As lost was my smile awhile
As she is a trial to using guile
For our inevitability waiting
While she is debating dating
As she is my fate I do so state.
Copyright Andrew Stevenson 24/09/2024
Thank you. Love love, Andrew.
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