Vintage Blooky Married to Vintage BJ's blog: "Haiku's (and other wordy stuff)"

I wandered your city, on Presidents ’ Day,
And poured myself into a beer,
It's got to be love; I've never felt this way,
You’re still the owner of me.

The sun on the snow, dazzled my eyes,
I wonder where you can be,
The moon was a portal to the light beyond the skies,
You’re still the owner of me.

I should go to the corner, find something to eat,
Instead I’ll wait by the phone,
My boss is complaining about my work rate,
You’re still the owner of me.

I climbed a mountain, I climbed a tree,
I crossed the ocean for you,
Now I’m pouring myself a double sympathy,
You’re still the owner of me.

Blondes, brunettes, and redheads try to stake their claims,
When it’s clear that something went wrong,
But it’s simply cold comfort I find in their names,
You’re still the owner of me.

I light a candle, almost every day,
I have visions of tangled limbs
I love you more than all these words can say,
You’re still the owner of me.