I'D Rather Be...
Pearls from the sea,
diamonds from the mountain.
White gold from the river's start,
beauties where we found them.
Poems from a scented pen,
written out on finest vellum.
Passages to a lonely heart,
with doors that seem always open.
All these are but transient things,
filling melancholy moments.
True poetry lies in sonnets of eyes,
rhyming rhythms of tender caresses.