Smokes of a half burnt incense
Smell of freshly chopped roses
I take sips of her beauty in small doses
Savoring the very best for when we are closest

I woo her away in every chances
In some hopes of tender kisses
The sweet taste of her bright lips
Makes a man beg for her to keep

How long do I have to wait
In thrills of our desired getaway
Even when in our old days
My merry muse, she stays