White-laced Beauty At A Dance: Romantic ConTEXTing Iambic Poem

Oh thou beauty,
white laced,/
moving with music/
and drink-fueled grace,/
willst thou, post dance party,/
even still remember me,/
or yet seek kindly my face?

The answer, texted back, was iconic in its simplicity:
“No”

Not My Daughter’s Memory of Me: A Romantic IMbic Sonnet

A guy who cares is better than funny;
unique, memorable, even special, maybe.
So… how does your daughter
remember me?

Do you go to bed
all twitterpatted?
With a grin on your face
that looks .. out of place?

With a gleam in your eye?
And a long, tender sigh
when you’re done IMing me?
Is that what she sees?

Is that how she
remembers me?