These twain heaven-made zaftig apples
That stand firmly upon thy finest frame,
My shapely and delightful dame,
And thine nectar that my heart ripples
Are mine by nuptials to thankfully consume
In and out of their bloom.
Let all others turn apace to gall
In my mouth, my honey doll.
Oct 28, 2011
Oct 28, 2011 at 2:47 AM UTC
These twain heaven-made zaftig apples
That stand firmly upon thy finest frame,
My shapely and delightful dame,
And thine nectar that my heart ripples
Are mine by nuptials to thankfully consume
In and out of their bloom.
Let all others turn apace to gall
In my mouth, my honey doll.
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