The Poet: see me as if newly naked, see me as your
only you; a bliss to be as if there´s solely one of two.
Nosey as I am, imaginary spouse, I suppose us
versatile enough, to versify us both in verses for a
tiny little book.
...the curtain´s now a drapery...curtails us into
a scene, and...the birds...those that in a garden
freely chirps...seen no more as paradigms of
open spheres; fossilized is our roof, confidential
in its tone; files with due discretion the secrets of
our little herd.

Madam: cut the crap and do as you´ve been told,
play your trump, the avalanche that clings onto
your hold.
Yes, caress boldly yet with care, my mussle, your
card blanche, smuggled, undercover, in revising
vice versa as reversed to verify delights within
your verse; contraband, by those said three.

Give gaze divine a veiled and sweet bourdun,
as manners of your verse will grant their sense
and traits some tact and tone...sprinkle them
with grace; then, propose the marvelled three to
be your cicerone.
Thus, bestow your plume, the one I sense is there
for you to show; adorn them, with your bow.

The Poet: yes, muses three, apparently, in precise
vicinity of me, are duely versified within my verse,
no need to say, to suit the pressing needs of thee;
as vice versa wisely variates, it clads each nymf in
virtues dress.
Madam: your fine-tuned feather, our pendang,
that sees as one what seems apart, lures muses to
diffuse into your heart; then, as you are joined with
me, in gratitude of graceful verse, they grant their
wings and make this bed a flying cart!
In the final analysis, so far so good; I sense as if I
feel we´ve done it all quite well!

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The drawing is made by myself with
ball point pen in 2008, and I have it in
my home; it is based on a photo.
It can also be seen under "Utställningar".