Skimpy Scrawlings

At a risk of my blog entries getting all samie,
I’m writing a poem for my girlfriend Jaime,
A few weeks ago, this chick of mine,
Turned the venerable age of twenty something,

She gave me some jip; twas no ode in her card,
I said, Pet, I’m no performing bard,
I don’t always know if the Muses are there,
But right about now, I’ve got oodles to spare.

She walks the earth on gorgeous pins,
And next to her other girls smell like the bins,
There is no compare; she is like no other,
But right about now, the funk soul brother.

She’s got luscious hair and is fair of face,
With a slender body like a young Lorraine Chase,
Throw in a bum like the Taj Mahal,
She’s as hot as a vindaloo, even a phal.

But the truest of beauty comes from inside,
And her heart is big and long and wide,
She is generous to a bloody fault,
Of this earth she is the salt.

Once you’ve known her for a while,
You start to miss her beaming smile,
She’s as clumsy as a baby giraffe,
But always follows with a laugh.

I never worry ‘bout worldly harms,
When I hold her in my arms,
And though there is much more to say,
I’ll keep it simple; Happy Birthday!

See you very soon, babe X