***Fox sez:*** Well... here is my very lame attempt at poetry... "Write a poem," my teacher said. So I wrote one that didn't rhyme.

I like it when poems don't rhyme... =^-^;=

******* ... Much Too Old for That *******

Your soft whisper,
Ehcoing it mellow song in my ear.
As light as a feather,
As sleek as a cat,
You pick yourself up,
Off the green-dyed grass,
With your shimmering wings.
They are the flowing sleeves,
Of your snow white gown.
The pearl moon, like a guard,
Spies our every move,
And casts a dark blanket behind you,
That mimicks your slender sillouhette,
Sapphire blue eyes,
Like the deep, azure sea,
Shine back at me,
Mischeviously and clever.
You're so beautiful,
With your ruby mane and sapphire eyes,
You're like an elusive persian,
Graceful and sleek.

When did we last do this?
Nine years... Maybe ten...
But why did we stop,
And sacrifice our innocence?

I ask you these questions.
You laugh and answer,
With that all too familiar,
Smirk upon your crimson lips.
That we are much too,
Too old for nonsense like this.
'But /you/ still eat /snow/,' I reply,
Almost too suddenly,
Almost too quick.
But you simply shrug your lean shoulders,
And, like a little kitten,
Playfully snuggle against my chest.
Your blood stained tresses tickle my cheek,
Almost beckoning me to kiss you.
But I can't.
I won't ever.
No matter how much I love you.

We are, as you said with your sharp, quick tongue,
Much too old for that.

*** Fox sez more ***: Now... wasn't that torture? I wrote it in English class... that's why. We were doing *similie poems* for crying out loud! And there's no wonder it's so damn sad. So... yeah.

Who's POV is it? Weeeell... it could be anyone's... But I'm still a die-hard Rocketshipper... ::gets hit by multiple, hard objects::

/But it's not a poem : it doesn't rhyme!/

All the better. Poems don't *have* to rhyme... right?