Beauty and the Beast

Beauty and the Beast With burning coals for eyes, A hairy mass for a face, Tree trunks for arms, I hold you with a grip that's a vice's, Yet, a touch that's a feather's, Lest, I bruise a face with a shine, No full moon's can compare, Carry you through time, As I would, a delicate Ming china, Fully in the know, That the blunder of a mis-step, Should never be, Lest, An untimely jolt out of your slumber- By my enchantment, Cost me the kiss, That could transform this grotesque beast, Into the prince, Of your dreams.