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.
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