Writing Skills

She said she loved my writing skills

I hoped she would love me instead

It can start with the writing thrills

I would rather we start in bed

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Counting sheep till we fall asleep

Though I prefer to name famed cats

Morris and Maurice in one sweep

Pretending there were never rats

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The middle of the night, a sound

Reverberates across our heads

Someone’s awake and it’s not round

It’s longish, brutish and it spreads

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I try to forget its standing

Ovation to a time long gone

It keeps steadily expanding

It’s still not morning, Don Juan