He dropped a hint about his love
He made some innuendos
He gave an inkling hand in glove
The response was tremendous.
He read between the lines always
And noted writers’sfeelings.
He mulled these over all the day
Until his head was reeling.
His love so fair, he did not dare
To ask her on a date.
And so in life he was a spare
And never got a mate.
A hint is useful now and then
But some of us don’t take them.
If it’s urgent , get your pen,
And with a letter make them
How my heart sings 