Beat me daddy, eight to the bar
He may be smooth, Anneliese; he may be charming to your Mom.
He may treat you to champagne and caviar.
He may think he knows what’s best for you, and how he could refine
The essence of who he thinks you are.
But does he make you smile, in your bed, in the morning?
Is he as good as me, Anneliese?
Does he strike the spark, fan the flame, stoke the fire?
Only I’m your naughty lover, Anneliese.
Him or me, Anneliese?
Only one of us can save you.
You must choose between the sinner and the saint.
So decide, Anneliese – project manager or poet?
Who can stay? Who must leave, without complaint?
Stay with me, Anneliese.
Soar with me, my pale pink angel!
Let us run to the chapel in the middle of the village.
Let us vow to be together, till the end.
From fingertip to tiptoe, you will always be my canvas
As my words attempt a portrait of a woman like no other.
Come to me, Anneliese! Don’t you see, Anneliese?
You’re my dream, you’re my life, you’re the beating of my heart.
You are all that I could pray for, Anneliese, Anneliese.
You have brought me to my knees, sweet Anneliese.
- Ed Hardy. A Poem For Anneliese (primalnights.wordpress.com)