Triolets

There is a silly sexist tradition that says women can propose to men only on 29th February. (Yes, one day in four years.) And here I am following it by writing an ode to the Guy:

You did not woo me

You did not woo me
With pretty words and flowers
You just let me be:
You did not woo me
You just talked to me
Of all you thought, for hours.
You did not woo me
With pretty words and flowers.

This kind of poem is called a triolet. I first learned about it here, and tried my hand at it. It was a lot of fun, and I sent off my first two attempts to the competition and succeeded in winning an honourable mention.

Here's the other one:

For every single day

For every single day
Today, tomorrow, and after:
Till we grow old and gray…
For every single day
As long as we both may
Live: may there be joy and laughter
For every single day
Today, tomorrow, and after.