Marx

Come nearer to me to feel the real romance of my love,
And i will love you like the blue glue without as clue;
For i am in the cold all alone waiting for you to come in.

Blue, glue, clue, flue;
Come to me like the 'Sempe Stool in James Town',
For i have the bumper harvest of fish to share with you.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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