My lady fair, of whom I nightly dream, Thy love hath captured me without a fight; Of thee my thoughts, and with thy face they teem, And light my days, and daze me with thy light. Beauty so great, which pen so poor as mine May make seem plain, in lacking skill to tell it; But this I see (sweet shivers down my spine) - Myself and thou, all naked, as I spell it: Tracing with tongue, and fingers slowly moving, "L - O - V - E", a thousand thousand times, Of clothing innocent, and ready for the loving, Thou stand, eyes closed, and burning to be mine... All words are vain, beyond all boast I love thee, And dream of thee, beneath me and above me.
Author:
Ben Okopnik