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writing

If I Can

Warm brown cookies, unplated
but from them, I abstain.
Warm yellow nest, articulated,
by the beautifully mundane.

Dirty dishes, consolidated,
to be washed yet again.
Silver spoon, illuminated,
the sun's morning refrain.

But you are not mundane,
with a beauty understated,
with a wit and tongue who reign
 I o'er advice, perfectly stated.

All morning now, you waited,
and your smile, you maintain.
You keep my mind elated.
You keep this loon from wane.

Acquaintances? Perhaps; 
though now truly acquainted.
Everything in twain.
And I, the robin fainted.
You shall not live in vain.

Photograph by joeyspadoni.