Wednesday 3 June 2015

OF HER:


Of her, there was nothing, to which he was exempt,

A bit of cynical acid & then, her whole lot of tempt,

He loves her bits of lure & those pieces of tiny pout,

He adores the way she smiles & her tendency to shout,

He loves her wanton humour & her quirky running tears,

Without even mentioning, her black negligees so sheer,

He loves the way she talks, acts & her silly little ways,

The clicking of her heels & those red-lacy tied-up stays,

Her delicate breast, soft knee & her endless rounded hip,

He adores her wrist, endless legs & her scarlet painted lip,

There was nothing of her at all, that didn´t turn his head,

Regardless of time passing, since the day that they were wed.

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