Originally posted by Voidmaster
An ode to you I write today,
But what does it matter, its passed away,
Borne away on the tounges of man,
Buried here, in no-mans-land.
None but I talk of your hair,
Your beautiful golden, silky hair,
Nine but I speak of your face,
A gem of gems, a goddess grace.
None but I speak of your form,
slender and soft, beauty not norm,
None but I whisper of your eyes so blue,
A shocking, beautiful, distinguished hue.
None but I proclaim your beauty,
None so mightily,
None but I proclaim your beauty,
None so loyally.

Where-in lies her leonine grace
but in the contours of her face?
A gentle smile, her eyes like jade,
in red hair framed...a serene glade.
Counting freckles on her milky skin,
I'm forever lost in devotional sin.
Enraptured by those charming spots
upon round cheeks and various plots.
Why is it then, that I can't get past twenty
When counting slowly through those fields of plenty?
Is it just because she will not wait
while I, such treasures contemplate?
And then moves so quick to plant a kiss
and I, as her lover, would never be remiss
to pass upon a chance to accept this,
that sugar sweet moment of supreme bliss.