Pandering, a fantasy of six beyond nine
Showing the curt, a well-being bright
Stranger forms to a naive giving a kiss, to rhyme
That seldom in the hands of yet, is a soldier of might

Sweet favors and given gifts of liberty, savor with me
The count of sincerity, truth was a careful groom
Taken to exception with a remorse, seen in the wind
To begin a lovely sense of justice, a risen loom

Of powers pretty and patient
So called fresh, of decency to come and bless
The waking house of admit, a ray of sunshine
To a lover's kind, and harrowing is but ours to wish

A resolve for you, not the coping hush
We know can begin the tastes and hastes of everyday
But is courted love ever more, than a dream in a rush
To question the seem, the set and the curse of a stone we pray

Is a laughing health, to conceive of a needy eye
Heeded by any who would, the chasing shadows of myth
And buoyant to our heed, the wedding of sight, so sublime
That the tears of ingenue are one to meet, in seasons of bliss

Hatred in a childish face, impish with the pride of peculiarity
Singing this way and that, the tone of a curious voice
Personally, is more of a milk of human kindness, than a stir of liberty
That has grown with you, to know a simple chide, is a kiss with a meager choice...