When I penned poems praising in ode,
You jumped for joy in your small abode.
If you read between each slick line,
The double entendre is bile beeline
Of innuendoes caked in sarcasm.
The throes of an orgasmic chasm
That greeted me made me pick my pranky jaw
From my mischievous muddy ground of flow.

Now in repentance, regretting basking in your folly,
Consternation crested on the conscience of my dolly,
And I sat to retract my petty, pensive joyride.
Sentiments stated; retraced lace to fit a bride.
I turned the tears to laughter
For a very happy thereafter.

That poem had its sentiments washed clean
And replaced with the more pristine green
Truth that seeps from the deepest bottom of my heart.
I should not have forgotten that you are a divine art.
So, I recanted and removed the rant of an ant.
Now, it’s a roar that goes fast with the brant.

©️ William Warigon ™️

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