My adaptation of Andrew Marvell’s To His Coy Mistress:
300 Words To Her Coy Master
Yet it lingers, both space and time
this demure, Sir, lost in mine,
as us some how some way today
we’ll watch the hours wash away.
Aside the banks of the Thames,
euros, pounds, dollars; I condemn
only space and our vast distance.
Indulge in a force so intense.
Vexing the mind on salvation,
we alone could spark creation.
Sentiments in me shall breed,
reactions that your nation needs.
I’ll count the days, the time it takes,
your smile, and deep dimple caves.
The length of you I long to love,
although that love I’m not sure of.
An era on each precious part
and the last age shall show your heart.
Hey love our time is running low.
We cannot afford to wait. Whoa,
my breath goes when I see that face.
Strong senses I wish not erased.
Neither of us can escape time
eternity, not yours or mine.
Your adorn flesh must melt away,
fertilizing lilies one day.
Then these words birds will chirp and sing,
reminding, where you lay love rings.
When your quaint honor turns to dust,
blowing in the wind all this lust.
The final rest a private place,
will mean for us love is too late.
Now, so I say, since we are here,
from this verse may that smile appear.
Can I find my hand inside yours?
Can we pine lust from every pore?
Let us, be us whilst we still can!
Five cooling blades. Your biggest fan.
Time is running low, now let’s go!
Eyes wide shut, love knows where to go.
Submission is all that’s missing.
Wasting time we could be kissing.
They say don’t save you, it’s your strife,
but in my dreams I am your wife.
Thus, we cannot stop this our world
stand still, what is real will unfurl.
By Ms. Jheri