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From: robobitch@my-deja.com
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 alt.arts.poetry.comments,alt.arts.storytelling,alt.ascii-art,alt.ascii-art.animation
Subject: Re: Love, the stars, and YOU - Relationship101.com
Date: Sun, 11 Feb 2001 16:36:41 GMT
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In article <9626n5$3js$1@nnrp1.deja.com>,
  Richard <rrkeel@my-deja.com> wrote:
> Love�s hyperbole
>
> On dove�s wings our love does fly
> and sets bright diamonds in dark sky.
> In your sweet soul like oceans deep
> away the tides of passion sweep.
>
> But dearest love, how would it hurt
> to fold and put away my shirt?

  On cruise missiles her answer came
  to blow away his love so lame
  all wrapped around with ripped up shirts
  all to the moving song "Love Hurts"
>
> You are my morning, noon and night,
> my breaking dawn and wild moonlight.
> Our passion moves the trembling earth.
> Your shining eyes reflect my worth.

  His dawn broke like the breaking wind
  as if man never loved nor sinned
  nor flatulated with such ease
  that flattened five acres of trees
>
> But why must it take you so long
> to admit whenever you�ve been wrong?
>
> My song you sing, my verse complete.
> No band of angels could sound as sweet
> Ours is a pure and perfect love
> built and blessed by Heav�n above.

  He sang so sweetly from his hole
  passed gems about love's hyperbole
  the woodpigeons were moved to cry
  and pass their comment from on high
>
> In such a perfect love you�d think
> you could clear dishes from the sink.
> Joined eternally of course;
> aw hell, just file for divorce.

  she thrust his head into the sink
  and filled it neatly to the brink
  till saucers floated round his ears
  and left him there for dead, my dears.
>
> --
> Richard
> Write for yourself, edit for everybody else.

  Robobitch
  Write because it's there

  *A woman's just too tired to think
   about the dirty old dishes in the kitchen sink

   - Annie Lennox (You Have Placed A Chill In My Heart)

>


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