Four Poems

I could, if pressed, write I suppose
About the beauty of your nose
Although the truth is-dare I tell?
I don't recall it very well.
Your eyes would make some copy too
I do remember both are blue
And mellow like a well kept wine
So much superior to mine
Which have a rather shifty roll
Like two fish swimming in a bowl.
Your ears I will assume are there
Incarcerated in your hair.
I should, because it's fair and just
Describe the merits of your bust,
But this might give the verse a twist
Repugnant to the Methodist.
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