Love, a poem

I love you, a bushel and a peck,

Something simple but just wait a sec.

What is a bushel and what is a peck,

It is the weight of fruit and picked by a redneck.

 

So, my love is like my love for fruit,

Strawberries sweet and blackberries acute.

Liquid ambrosia in a flask of juice,

Drunk by the painter Toulouse.

 

I would climb the highest mountain and swim the deepest sea,

If only you would confess your love to only little bitty me.

Of course, I would die of oxygen deprivation and drown in the briny,

Just for acknowledgement of your love no matter how tiny.

 

You are the twinkle in the sky,

You cause me a tear in my eye.

You cause my heart to beat and my breath to sigh,

Losing you would cause me heart break and to cry.

 

I will rip this drivel up and run to your side,

I would get in my Chevy and take you for a ride.

We would settle at the levy and watch the water roll on by,

Hand in hand and souls intermixed until the day we die. 

 

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