Lines In Time ~ A Poem By Walt Page, The Tennessee Poet

I’m at the end of the line
And running out of time
I need to tell her that she’s so fine
Her kisses intoxicate me like fine aged wine
I think she really wants to be mine
But right now I need a sandwich
Before I start to whine
I looked at the clock
And it was half past nine
I knew then that it was a sign
She said she loved my receding hairline
As we sat together
Sipping Tennessee moonshine
I couldn’t take my eyes off
Her plunging neckline
She scolded me
Saying “No monkeyshines”
So I sang her my version of Sweet Caroline
At that moment our hearts intertwined
And we became each others
Forever Valentines

~The Tennessee Poet~
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