Midnight Poet Strikes Again, Toot-toot-tootsie, goodbye

An ostentatious move.

Was he trying to prove

That with such talent

He could carry the show?

Doesn’t he know?

We’re already smitten.

I’d, before now, been bitten,

not by his outward and worldly procession,

nor by a face with it’s gallant expression,

but by goodness and grace –

no pureness effaced

by some talent obsession.

Such aggression

for spotlight

dims my excite,

for trying too hard

can simply bombard

My patient threshold.

I needn’t the handhold,

or bit of convincing.

My love for him, truly,

is simply existing.

So breathe, Gabriel,

but not in the horn.

Just relax and be fatter,

and trust that we love you,

and nothing’s the matter.