Hi, Are you just another lover, passer-by?
For I find sod’s law at every handle I try
Please say if I’m just a houd-kop for love all over again
Say if this is the last stanza this poem ought to contain

Restore a meaning in these romantic records
In many moons I couldn’t make heads or tails of their chords
Give me my fictionalized realities
In them you borrow me your grin and kisses
Here I am knocking on your bosom

Day ‘n night, hankering for favour of your saintdom
Falling for you is worth more than whatever rain falls for
O’ matchless lady I couldn’t use you in a metaphor

I know I dote upon you, so let us try a mile
And let these moments serve a reminiscent smile