On the Nature of My Work

 

I put my words to paper,

To tell a tale or two

Though the characters and the caper

May seem rude to you.

 

That is never my intention,

It never is my cause

That these words of my invention

Should lead to such a pause.

 

I write the words of fantasy,

From the reaches of my mind

And as I'm sure it's clear to see

They are of an adult kind.

 

I write these words mainly in fun,

And for my readers' play

And when all is through, the work all done

I hope it lightens up their day.

 

If, to you, these works offend,

There's not much I can say.

If our relationship is at an end

I'll kindly bid good day.

 

I cannot stop this muse

More than I can stop my heart

Regardless of any person's views

Concerning my form of art.

 

So while I may have hoped for

More than simple friends

It’s up to you to choose a door,

A friend, or more, or end.

 

I really would not enjoy

Losing your company

And it would be my joy

If you would converse with me

 

I will comprehend

If you must say farewell

But I’d rather this didn’t end:

I like you, if you can’t tell.

 

So I’ll leave it up to you,

Just where we go from here

Friends, or more, or say adieu,

I await your answer, dear.