denis hale's b-day

I remember feeding you psyllium fiber and oatmeal, or something, once upon a poem. Today, I offer a bite of all the sweetness ever offered, the most succulent mouthful ever tasted, a symphony of perfection and a sight so painful that you cannot bear to see.

Happy Birthday!
 
February is the coolest month, breeding
Poets pouting, their dread hands, sexy
Memories of desire, whirring
Droll toots and kink plain.
Winter kept from harm, shoveling
Earth onto fretful knows, leading
A little life with dulled rubrics.
Some her surprised us, coming with such a melody--
In a shower she came. I topped her in a rowdy way,
And went on in fun right into the house dungeon.
We ate toffee and flogged for an hour,
Being her kind is Russian, stamped as Litizen, ex-choice.
And when she as children, flaying her arch, do
Her cuzzin and take her out onto bed.
Do not be frightened. I said Marie,
Marie, stay your plight. And down she went.
When her mounting, there I feel free.
I sleep, much of the night, and so mouth her and banter.




OK, so I couldn't do a birthday ghazal. Happy day, Mr. Hale.
 
omg :)

Wow.

You guys are so awesome. :)



And Don't Assume For A Second
That I Forgot The Champagne


Dancing
nanners and
3 layer
cakes,

Buk by
Bono plus
a teary T
Waits,

fresh-baked
Tzara verse &
Vespas make

for da
besta of da
bestest
birthday

to date!


:D :heart: :heart: :D


:kiss: Thank You!
 
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