He wrote...
"I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast..."
Now, I think Mr. Kilmer had grand thoughts,
But a woman's look is far more sought
With hair so flaxen, long and soft,
Caressing shoulders laid bare of cloth.
With skin as alluring as peaches and cream
when pressed to my lips, they yearn to scream
For more of the same in a continual game
Of cause and effect which forever inflames
A spark of sensuality filled with emotion
that earns a man's most deepest devotion
Transformed from a minor provocation
To a splendid state of adoration.
I love being loved; it allays all fear
While holding the woman I hold so dear,
So, when Cupid drew back its bow
I forwarded his arrow with words to show
How precious a treasure my woman's to me
when compared to silver, gold diamonds, or "Trees!"
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