If fairy tales are true , then my ending must be written by you.

The Princess kissed her humble man with eyes closed and not expecting.

The motion between his hips and his bulge erecting.

She surely felt this was the one. He felt the same. Not to be undone aseach and every day, together chasing the sun.

She wished him all her love as only Princess’s can.

Her handsome Prince, forever her man.

Time toiled on for her and him. An angelic life, yet a requiem of sorts.

He pleased her inward and out, but deep in her mind different consorts about.

Her handsome man, never a toad, still carried a heavy load.

He’s still a Prince as new life begins once again.

He loves the passion of new friends and lovers all a la mode .

She reaps the whirlwind of her fire, yet only his hair got singed.

He lays deep in thought about some others
wishing they were here with him under dark covers.

For we all are Princes and Princesses to someone who cares.

Come feel my covers and a life to share.

Cooking dinner, doing laundry, and scrubbing floors.

Work I’ve always done and shall do some more.

Sexy is the man who is scrubbing so I am told

As she was rubbing, on the floor, trying to find that foothold.

Ah, time flies past when you’re the Prince and not the toad.

But still shit happens, flushed down the commode.

Why? Only hell’s half acre knows for sure.

But the toad will be a Prince once more.

Kissed once again I will fall.

Laughing and just enjoying it all.

Helpless and hopeless a romantic I think.

Forever treading lightly, primordial instincts

Waiting to kiss that lady in pink.

R.b.