What a Mistake

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Oil Painting – William Plante

In a warm bed, to leave her arms,
Launch a canoe, cross this icy lake.
Her bottom nudge and soft lips my alarm,
Oh fudge!

I must be insane, at least a jerk
Cut wood, build a fire, all that work.
Nuts, out here in November,
Her sweet words, how I remember.

“Before you leave my love I will kiss thee.”
And truely, “You will miss me.”

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