Amberosia

There she sits pristine and demure catching the center of mine eye within a glint of thoughts impure my breath exhales a forlorn sigh Beyond few others to compare a Duchess - far from being trite I can not help but sit and stare yearning her face to ingrain sight Holds herself well, so full of grace strong - yet passionate - her aura illumines with her smiling face long to bathe her in rose flora I pine to be enwrapped amid her eyes and silky golden locks the thought leaves me feeling sordid must keep inside Pandora's box Glides across the floor with such ease her scent it does intoxicate penultimate sense which to please never so much to satiate Penult - there's one more important her touch - which I will never know no frets - I'm not a psychophant with dreams of her 'round my pillow A mere man who appreciates the beauty that she possesses one who just wants to demonstrate the spell she has cast that vexes There's no ulterior motive for me penning these words on down I know they aren't really pensive nor fit for this Queen as a crown