She’s a bubbling inspiration
Of countless untold joys,
And secret violations,
And deadly inhibitions…
On the tip of my tongue lies the honey
For the words I can’t seem to find.
She may laugh and think this if funny,
But this description belongs to me;
It is mine.

In her lie many words,
Secret and hidden,
Some words of untold beauties
Some of perversions forbidden.
Yet, like a lark,
Her merry heart is so astounding.
It overflows with an epidemic of joy.
It’s contagious;
It seems to surround me.
`Tis enough to leave one’s head pounding.

A little rhyme,
A note, an aire:
These are what she gives,
What she has to offer.
But few know
There is so much more there.
Secrets her eyes tell,
Secrets she whispers even softer.