She is more of an Angel than of a Siren…
My lady in yellow melodies is softer than yours!
Love without its bleak bleached and sorrowful hours
She gives me plus her pearly ass for she’s a Zion.
All, I was searching for a made-flesh poem:
A devil told me: “You ought to fly to Aspen.”
Lo’ I voiced: “Yay, amongst stars, bels and els I shalt seize her,
Amongst the second-born fruits of Olympus’ peppers.”
Yester night, she cooked me Nutella pancakes
While I was sipping Indian tea for a night-cap!
We did not corrupt the souls we never had!
—- She lent me her love cake…
And eye, ’twas sweeter than new wine before a thousand naps!
Once blameless I had been and Lucifer tried to rockly delude me
With the portrait of a lady in a red gown,
—- A succubus from the seas…
— Gilles D. Fabien