To move in Reflex, as Earth and Air kiss
Sport Water to fare that Steel Jungle cool
And stunningly Ritual; One I dare miss
Bid the Twinkle-Toes and harped like a Fool
Fools. So saturated yet most reserved
That a Semaphore my Loose Restraints such
To feature my Craft; Though Elements conserved
And leave you Two free to hone your fine lot
Figures. That Speech slumber by your instinct
Yet left me asking which Equation true
Amongst your limbs - flip Angles by distinct
Then shaped the Art and Miracle as you.
Quite expected, though not in such Degree
With her in-waiting, as I chop a Tree.