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Poem

This architectural frame upon your mortal hue
Testifies God’s perfection and generosity in creation
These compartments of yours that dazzle the eye 
Are autographs that you are far above angelic beauty
Radiant queen among mortals, adorned in attire that beckons angels
Like the fallen giants who lost heaven in pursuit of the daughters of men
Not even the devout priest with his pious sermons and asceticism is extricated from this trial
The maker’s brush made a lasting touch on every part and the art endures
Your eyes gleam like the morning star, perfectly nestled in their sockets
In the invention of lust and glamour;
The curvature of your breast is like the succulent apple, 
Happily, and adeptly knit in size to fit the palm
Erected in the direction calling attention
O merciful God! 
You have created both peace and trouble in one frame.
Felicia!
The goddess of beauty!
Your oval hips and the convexity of the buttocks 
Are textures marvellously defining these straight and unblemished legs
Isn’t God’s craftsmanship wonderful?
Oh, God have mercy!
Your loved son is about going to the gallows  
Dying inward in glorification of your architectural masterpiece
These visible and terrible stripes tickle emotion
The veiled might be homely as I craved closer;
Though they are both in one
By much closeness the devil is made manifest.
Beautiful Felicia!
As much as your beauty allures, your character repels
 The latter is stronger,
But the former is dust
These are my idle contemplations.

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