More than a Rosebud [sonnet]
There was one part of her which made its mark;
though others did their work to sculpt the whole.
The way her lips were shaped in me did spark
a joyful sigh. (I give you my parole).
With mouths like rosebuds some can show their charm;
while others pout and pose to cause a stir.
Her mouth of cavelike mystery would disarm
the staunchest facial structure connoisseur!
Yet, some would find my observations coarse;
might even say such words could sound perverse.
To them, with vigour, I, with counterforce,
say lips have found their zenith in this verse!
Her mouth: The part which deeply spoke to me.
If you could see it too, you would agree.
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© Alan Morrison, 2013
The Naked Troubadour 