do you think me handsome, Jane?
your forehead is fine
and I relish
the many thoughts which spring
from it, Sir
then come come tell me how
and what you really feel
I am plain speaking
and direct, Sir
I've no use for neither flowers
nor words which might resemble them
real flowers are rooted
and I prefer planted into the ground
and contented there so that they may live
the length of their full-lives-intended
I see, Jane...
so I am not a flower
and you are not the sun
nor rain which would fall upon me
and nourish me, then?
Sir, you go and think too far...
I said nothing of the kind...
perhaps you ought to examine my truth
in the words I do not say
instead of the words you infer that I've spoken?
stay with me then
and listen to me rattle on
and hold me of high regard
and appreciate me for my own self
as I do you
I can do that, Sir
it would be my pleasure
As it would be mine
and an effortless one
you're my enduring treasure...
(do you hear the loud beating of my heart
and how it beats faster when you are near?)
Oh, dearest dear Jane...
(Yes, Sir, Edward, my Mr. Rochester...
At last you are my own.)
LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS CONVERSATION POEM 3;35AM PST 2/15/2022
AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER/AUTHOR/POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED AND REGISTERED SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD
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