Bridget

My friend wanted a post extolling her virtues, so I ran with it and had some fun writing a very bad poem.

You dirty rotten Skittle-stealer,
Both a thinker and a feeler,
Make me laugh most of the time,
But you're not here; that's a crime.

Serious just when it counts,
Pick me up, turn me around,
I want to do that in return
As a friend you're hard to earn

Sensibler than I'll ever be,
Just about to turn fifteen,
Just for you, darling, I choose,
To make up words, to break the rules --

Of grammar, which I hold so dear
But things just change when you are near,
Call science! It's a paradigm shift,
In the Universe, a rift.

Just three weeks our brief flirtation
You blush red, like a carnation
This is sounding really gay,
Oh well, I'd #tapthat any day.

Your pretty face,
Bombastic figure
Violinist
That's the kicker

Your excess talent makes me sick
Though now I look like a dick
But I'm so proud and won't forget
How lucky I am that we met.





As you can see, I'm no poet.  Loving the change in rhyming scheme in the second-last verse. Also, Bridget? I did this for you, now get the hell out of Cork. xoxo