the fine essence of her ethereal being
oft times floated and wafted into the air
then would the music in her truly ring
with the poise and peace making it so fair
to hanker after the lasting and lusting hues
of the demented pleasures of abandonment
thus did i feel the dent from her covert teasing
she was soft and mellifluous like richest cream
and her walk was like a choreography to the hidden notes
of a musical profusion of poignant melodies and a rich pulse
deep in my lulled consciousness i knew for certain
she was the source of my beckoning dreams in technicolour
the sin that i didn't commit lest her purity  be forever soiled
she was the sweet walker in whom nestled my wildest fancies