Slowly and slowly as i approach her quivered bed...
Just regarded before her stead.
Slantedly and scantly i settled her dear, dear head...
Belay this moment i detest my dread.
Perspirational beads drip on down like mini buckets of sweat, way before they fall through an imaginary basketball backboard's net...
Hidey hoe and like away in a far off chartered chariot racing away should i do go.
Unsettled the way that angrilly i may soon have to show...
Slow down that anger's heat.
Let her do to show me her muffled meat...
I love the woman's dainty little feet.
Oh, so delicate a wonderous vision, for mine eyes to well share this treat...
A heart shaped ass, well proportionately molded well by God, to amass this fine lady lass totally encased with class.
I am what but a prisoner of your love, my lady dove!
Michael Gale
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/but-to-be-a-prisoner-of-your-lady-loved-dove/
