I Want To Marry A Poetess

i want to marry a poetess,

our wedding will be on the isle of rhyming words,

committed to each other by similar muse,

we will create children from the fusion of our diction,

carving out presents from our tangled past,

& ensure that our future rests solely —

on the sworn oath of concrete poetry.

oh, if i marry a poetess,

know that our love will be spiced up with imageries,

of children born into an ocean of inspiration,

from which they'll fish out intelligent poems,

stretching in wisdom like the chromosomes of their parents,

our union will be a solemn assembly of two pure hearts —

joined together by the umbilical cord of untainted poetry.

if i marry a poetess,

annoying alarms will set off by five in the bedroom of poetry,

surrounded by hot magma of crude inspiration,

ready to explode into a symphony of Shakespearean pieces,

for she shall serve me odes as breakfast,

& lunch will be epics with a touch of ballad —

while my dinner be spiced up with pulsating reviews.

& when we shall both wax old,

I want to sit in the rocking chair of threnodies & couplets,

reviewing how time went by while stroking her white hair,

I shall visit my pasts on the wingless wings of imagination,

& reveal to me how lucky I was,

not only that I married a poetess —

but that I fed on words daily till we passed on.

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Thank you.

Arkoreblog