sonnet #1,642
I mumble under my breath while she slinks
Across the kerb, yes, what a charming chick,
The honey bob and jean shorts, mark no trick,
I'm her white knight, it's unbeknownst, methinks.
I pray to Christ this living saint or sphinx
Will enter my life, freely my heart pick,
I'd like to learn what makes her truly tick,
I'd love to meet her mind, her inner minx.
All heaven sent gifts, hygiene, spas and health,
As her fine skin and hair and clothes are clean,
My head is turned by her apparent wealth
And easy walk, the twinge of youth between.
Well, she looks right through me for miles on miles,
I make as much of her as quick half smiles.
(Chorus)
o miles
o feet
o yards