Your type of music is far too dead.
It leaves my excited audience red.
Although you may think I am very crass,
I like your quiet tones, they are high class.
I thank you for your highly spoken words.
Over my bass, your cello is unheard.
Despite my harsh words, you can keep me calm.
Your lavender eyes can dampen my palm.
Your soft, quiet, dulcet tones give me cold chills.
For your love I would climb the tallest hills.
When I see your long, lush, ebony locks,
The butterflies in my heart flutter in flocks.
Author note:
The final part to the poem, I hope you enjoyed it. I know this is sort of out of character, but at the same time it kind of is. Examples of such: short sentences, kind of lame rhymes, and the inconsistency of the subjects being spoken about.
Music such as yours belongs in the streets,
But my heart does pound to those thumping beats.
I knew you were big trouble from hello,
For you spin vinyl, and I play cello.
Your music sounds of the thumbing of rocks.
So utterly putrid it should be on docks,
But the pounding pounding rhythms to so entice.
I had to play each of your records thrice.
I notice your incredible beauty,
But then, I taste your warm breath, so fruity.
I think, when I hold your electric hair,
That losing you would cause me great despair.
Author note:
This is my first time putting anything I have written into the public eye. So any punctuation or spelling errors that you see needed, let me know so I can correct it! This is a call and receive poem. Although some aspects have changed in the layout, it is still the same concept. Twelve lines, ten syllables each, and an AA-BB rhyme scheme.
