Saturday, August 4, 2007

Some Poems for the Egg

I heart a man, I'll call him egg.
He gives me love and I needn't beg.
He is the Egglands Best.
I dream of him, nearly every night.
I can't wait to have him in my sight.
Houston is so far away!


Eggs are good breakfast.
Eggs are also good lovers.
I need to see eggs.

1 comment:

Belle said...

Aw. At least you know he hearts you, too.