The Untainted 'SHE'

The chasms of love which encircle a Juliet’s swoons, and a Romeo’s longings,
Dispel their magic better than wizardry, annihilating the very ‘me’, in an instant.
The Garden of Eden personified in time and reality, floats in my day-dreams even,
The red petals of Parisian roses and the gondolas of Venice seem utterly pleasant.

The moony face of m’lady, is what I would love myself to be transfixed at.
How, shall it become, I wonder, when those auburn curls, are crowned by a hat atop?
The rare cerulean pearls which adorn beneath those flashy jet-black eyelashes,
Often transverse a look, that make the ripples underneath cease down and stop.

The fragrance of her hair, scatters purifying, the many dark dingy secrets I chose to protect.
Little it does though, in me, to calm the torrential recesses of the maimed soul.
Her eyes connect with mine, as my heart fails to accommodate the unending joy.
I realise, I do not possess the requisite steps, to jive in tune with her, at the ball.

There she goes walking away, with cuddly cheeks, lagooning a fairly-shaped nose.
Turning back, she sports a devilish smile, outpacing Bathsheba legions behind.
Her curves, raunciously appealing, often destabilises boys to nuts of insanity.
Only if, I wonder, looking at me with pitiful eyes, fate was kind.

The Norwegian Aurora and blue moon, she cleanses my evil heart’s lair,
Breathing life back into the petrified me, stepping upon life’s, many a marble stair.
Her words of wisdom, breathe like inspiration, sculpting a heart which doesn’t fear to dare.
The beauty she glistens with, is an epitome, timelessly at which I stare.
For that speared heart, still cores her, chisels the untainted SHE, for which I truly care.

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