By Punnus Man
Some girls hit the gates running, a psychic blitzkrieg
Mine goes much farther; she goes for intrigue
Men are no mystery, though I hate to admit it
Our plots are cliché , like ‘the butler did it’
We’ve no sense of irony when it comes to ourselves,
No matter how cluttered we are with bookshelves
No matter how much we learn or how far we roam
We just can’t get over our Y Chromosomes
I’m as dense as the rest, well maybe more clever
When life makes me annoyed, I just mumble, ‘whatever’
But my lady is liquid, she moves like the ocean
Her mad genius inspires the most magical notions
I look for a swing, she goes for the bunt
My breath takes a walk; my brain simply punts
And the way that she looks at me over her glasses
And the way that time stops, then swirls as it passes
And her lips tastes like wine from a vineyard I dreamed
And nothing is just what I think that it seems
And the bends of reality start to fatigue
And my girl makes me shine,
My girl goes for intrigue.
Waxings 
Wonderful!
Beautiful poem, my punny blue friend. Your lady is a very lucky woman 🙂
My lady is liquid, she moves like the ocean – I love the head-feel of this line. A beautiful drawing of intrigue.