Tom Long's Short PoetryEdit
by Tom Long
Hark! Spring has come, thy name is Zoe Hart.
Physician, yes, the healer of my soul.
I’ve found thee now let’s never be apart.
For you and you alone hast made me whole.
I’ve heard that in the throes of the heat wave
with Wade you almost consummate your lust.
Thank God you’d not commit such acts deprave
for then my heart aflame would turn to dust.
I know that not all love you such as I
Oh Zoe how I wish you’d stick with me.
I’d warn you thus of Old Man Jackson’s eye
and not to drive a float into a tree.
How many sordid men must you go through
Until you see that I’m the one for you?