Beautie

A man is but a humble beast
Yet whun mine eyes 'er glorie see
This sanctus of my heart doth melt
Into ecstacties of grate power.

A whomum is more than a honeyed feast
Yet whun mine lips on 'er bodice dwell
What thrombulations assail mine castle gates!
Yea, I must forsake all vows und pretext
Simply to gaze at 'er holied space!

Surely this Benedictus is a Blessing
And many have upon worshipped thee
Under hallowed altars, bright stars, and silken sheets.

Lighting a candle as we move closer
I smile and touch you -
beauty inspires reverence

Copyright (c) 1982 - 2002 by T Newfields. All rights reverbed.
https://tnewfields.tripod.com/beau.htm