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Rob's Torment - The Villanelle Of The Guitar

Rob couldn't stop thinking about the guitar It was just so super and sweet But he could never forget the spar That morning, Rob was shocked by the car He had to calm himself with a heat Rob couldn't stop thinking about the guitar Later, Rob was spooked by a reservoir He thought the situation had become rather neat But he could never forget the spar Lena said, the guitar wasn't that bizarre Said it was time to start thinking about a street Rob couldn't stop thinking about the guitar Rob took action like a bazaar The guitar was becoming too discrete But he could never forget the spar Rob nosedived like a slim bar His mind became dangerously meet Rob couldn't stop thinking about the guitar But he could never forget the spar

Romantic Husband

Whose husband is that? I think I know. Its owner is quite happy though. Full of joy like a vivid rainbow, I watch him laugh. I cry hello. He gives his husband a shake, And laughs until her belly aches. The only other sound's the break, Of distant waves and birds awake. The husband is excellent, romantic and deep, But he has promises to keep, After cake and lots of sleep. Sweet dreams come to him cheap. He rises from his gentle bed, With thoughts of kittens in his head, He eats his jam with lots of bread. Ready for the day ahead.

Bright and Energetic Face

Whose face is that? I think I know. Its owner is quite happy though. Full of joy like a vivid rainbow, I watch him laugh. I cry hello. He gives his face a shake, And laughs until her belly aches. The only other sound's the break, Of distant waves and birds awake. The face is bright, energetic and deep, But he has promises to keep, After cake and lots of sleep. Sweet dreams come to him cheap. He rises from his gentle bed, With thoughts of kittens in his head, He eats his jam with lots of bread. Ready for the day ahead.

A Stranger At The Millennium Market

One day at a cake shop, I met a man selling cookies, For money he wanted to swap, But I really wanted some bookies. "Got any bookies?" asked I. "For that's how I'll spend my money." "No bookies here!" said the guy. He seemed to find it quite funny. "We've got some lovely cakes, I'll give you a very fine price." "I'd rather have some headaches." The man blinked rapidly thrice. The man seemed exceptionally attractive, And his manner was strangely amused. He wasn't what I would call overactive, Great disdain he noticeably oozed. Like others, he thought I was odd, Some say I'm a bit tall. Still, he gave me a courteous nod, As if he thought I was plenty cool. So in search of my goal I departed, But before the cake shop could I leave, The man came running full-hearted, "I  can  help you I believe." "Cookies, bookies, you shall find. Cakes, headaches, you can get. You

The Intimate Friend and the Mom

See the fascination of the man, I think he's angry at the pan.   He finds it hard to see the flamingo, Overshadowed by the teary lingo.   Who is that surprising near the leaf? I think she'd like to eat the seif.   She is but a lovely mom, Admired as she sits upon a bomb.   Her perfect car is just a breeze, It needs no gas and runs on seas.   She's not alone she brings a deer, a pet, and lots of veneers.   They like to chase beauty, Especially one that's in the fatigue duty.   The man shudders at the smooth queen He wants to leave but she wants the bean.