Alight


Alight please, sweet bird of my wonder,
sing true for me your sound.
Purr in delight at thunder,
deduce for me your ground.
Lengthy curls spill frayed
in a winded fringe,
remarkably unafraid
and wildly subdued tinge.
On that breeze you soar,
your seraphic face does show,
little else but allure,
and feathersome glow.
Your sculpted visage with inlaid
a little nose and pouty lips,
and immaculate-displayed
ivory goddess ellipse.
But most divine and forever,
deeply brown as umber burned,
doth unreproachfully endeavour
yearning eyes I have discerned.
I beg you, dove, admit your appetite,
I'm ardently ill, a-seized by fierce lust.
Fly here Aphrodite,
cleaved en masse we may rust.

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