I tried writing a bunch of couplets, just for fun. Silly, really.
On first love:
Pockets full of chocolate, head full of juvenile questions.
Feet springing to fresh autumn tunes and eyes brimming with adoration.
On saturday mornings:
Clear gold puddles of sunshine, splattered across once cold burrows of stone
Legs crossed under a dog-eared comic, while my tongue fondles an ice-cream cone.
On secrets and gossip:
Cross your heart and swear to die, ah, I see that sly glint in your eyes.
Come, let me whisper in your ear, lets just call this a slip of tongue, there.
On holding hands:
Warm fingers enclose chilly ones, tighten the gates of their promises.
Ankle-deep in auburn leaves, we waltz through the streets of paradise.
Simple but fine, your flakes of fancy, drool over the moist skin of the world.
Washed down by the rain, you rise again, your billows of finery unfurled.
On perfumed conversations:
That afternoon your fragrance, wafted to me, stirring in my head a suppressed uproar.
It charged at me, spread-eagle, like the claws of a hungry wave on it beloved shore.