Sometimes, my dear, when I look at your face
It inspires in me the means to express
In meter and rhyme your beauty and grace
And the way that I feel at your gentle caress
But sometimes, my dear, The words just won't come
And the rhymes that I write just aren't good enough
It's still the same heart the old poems came from
And my rhyme and my meter don't measure my love
All content copyright Bradley Wayne. wayne at wayneker dot com.