GANGSTER MOLL (sonnet)
'Twas said he was a gangster; he looked hard
his hovering group looked nervous when he spoke
He had a want, he barked, they pronto jumped
excepting one, his moll, she looked plain cool
She wasn't plain, she was a stunning beaute
but did she feel the life the company
was what she wanted? No way, my quiet thought
and I'd observed some while, my evening drink.
By chance we met, her, I, in town mid-morn
'I've noticed you, you've noticed me I know'
that's her, and so I said 'my place, one hour?'
'Agreed', she did, we did, and how, it great
'Oh that was good, my life I'll make a change
I'll find a chance; but now tomorrow morn?'