Just bring yourself,
those words still resonate,
a figure of kind speech,
my smile gave way to
the stern accountant's face...
......the red, at four degrees,
a box or two of frozen tastes,
Hans liverwurst, Dijon and licorice,
that perfect plastic glue,
more screen,
shampoo, I would insist,
yes, circular of course,
light touch the temples though,
if luck does hold
the miles of fragrant skin
would need some cream,
to hold the moisture in,
I'd take the time, and add a bit....
...fresh flowers may surprise,
nails trimmed,
new britches, squares on top,
and fourteen sacks of hope,
tall wishes from the heart.
I'd be there, right on time,
and think about that little dream,
the open arms and how you'd take
a running start,
please grasp a clavicle or two,
as all of me
just stands there,
on the potholed street,
and bearing only assiduity.
Another brilliant poem Wombat...