(no subject)

For the Day Before The Chocolate Goes On Sale
I promised Lis a sonnet I would write.
She's teased me that I'm going to fail
And she's going to mock me from morn to night.
So I've got to write this thing
To try to save me from her playful scorn.
Her loving jabs have some bit of sting
As well as the love of which those jabs are born.
So even though you can be such a playful bitch
I can't express how much you make me rich.