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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 dear Jane 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 Sweet Jane, stay awhile and listen to me rattle on and hold me of high regard and appreciate me for my own self as I do you for yours... I can do that, Sir it would be my pleasure As it would be mine Jane 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 TRADEMARK/COPYRIGHT Vote for this poem |
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