Alight please, sweet bird of my wonder,

sing true for me your sound.

Purr in delight at thunder,

deduce for me your ground.

Lengthy curls spill frayed

in a winded fringe,

remarkably unafraid

and wildly subdued tinge.

On that breeze you soar,

your seraphic face does show,

little else but allure,

and feathersome glow.

Your sculpted visage with inlaid

a little nose and pouty lips,

and immaculate-displayed

ivory goddess ellipse.

But most divine and forever,

deeply brown as umber burned,

doth unreproachfully endeavour

yearning eyes I have discerned.

I beg you, dove, admit your appetite,

I'm ardently ill, a-seized by fierce lust.

Fly here Aphrodite,

cleaved en masse we may rust.