A perfect specimen as I live and breathed,
Bespelled by the enchantment she weaved
Bowed lips serene smile,
Baby blue eyes that twinkle and beguile.
My partner tried to discourage me,
Of falling too deeply.
But her raven hair beckons my caress,
She was the only one I wanted to possess.
Her limbs supple and pale,
She was a 10 on the Richter scale.
Careful with craft of trade,
The make-up and hair artistically displayed.
She lay still as I created my magical touch,
Just my kind of gal not talking too much.
For her eyes I choose a pale blue,
That brought out her coloring true.
Her bone structure perfectly defined,
Stepping back to critique my design,
I painted her lips crimson red,
and thought to myself such a shame she's dead.
Her limbs rigor induced,
Even in death built seduced.
I being a mortician could see,
Essentially professional I had to be.
Her hair a deep raven black,
I gently pulled it back.
Leaving it to fall across one perfect shoulder,
All the time thinking I want to hold her.
Her lips beckon one chaste kiss,
I knew I would surely find bliss.
Cold lips so bittersweet,
Sending a jolt to the heels of my feet.
If I would make love to this magnificent queen
Would I be known as morbidly obscene?
My professionalism won out,
After all finding beauty in death is what my job is about.
Readying her for her family's viewing,
But still sad I would not be wooing.
Later that day………..
Awe again another to prepare,
My heart lost in despair.
When she was brought through the double doors,
My aching heart screams I am yours.
Her open eyes were a jade green,
With candy apple lips so gently serene.
Her hair a crown of red,
Such a shame she’s dead...............