Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move;, Eye aye, Hey Hawkeye, I met her in the museum of paleontology-And I make no bones about it-I said if you wish to study dinosaurs-I know a specimen whose interest is undoubted, I'd like to give you just the right amount and get some change, Metta to one and all, Remembering surrendering, Remembering that part, the tooth of the matter, Violet is dead-Rose is blue-This is the old folk's home-Everyone has the flu
A few chosen bits pilfered from his ‘Valentine‘.
I like your cheeks, I like your nose,
I like the way your lips disclose
The neat arrangement of your teeth
(Half above and half beneath)
I like your eyes, I like their fringes.
The way they focus on me gives me twinges.
Your upper arms drive me berserk.
I like the way your elbows work.
On hinges …
I like your wrists, I like your glands,
I like the fingers on your hands.
I’d like to teach them how to count,
And certain things we might exchange,
Something familiar for something strange.
I’d like to give you just the right amount
And get some change.
I’d like you in my confidence.
I’d like to be your second look.
I’d like to let you try the French Defence
And mate you with my rook.
I’d like to be your preference
I’d like to be around when you unhook.
I’d like to be your only audience,
The final name in your appointment book,
Your future tense.