Enchantress (Let Me Chisel Talk You) (Part One)

O! Ferocious temptress of the land, sea and air. Spread not thy leathery wings in fancy flights. From the generic evolution, into future clones. Lust raptures into unknown worlds of imagination. Amazon warrior of deadly desires, Hold my sword, it trembles in my hands. Parched lips utter, Eureka! in fascination. The lost land of my dream lies hither. Great ruling chieftain of your tribe, You set the heart afire, in that headgear. I fear not the dungeons, or moat castles. The sin was not mine. O! Deceptive eve. Mysteries of the high and mighty seas. Forsaken species from Noah’s ark. Guardian of times’ lost treasures, Dolphins mate, pure conch shell song. Pirates, sacred omen at the blue lagoon, Sailing buccaneers, haunting prize-catch. Rare dish blowing away marooned peace, You could be sugar squeezed, grape fruited. O! passion fruit, you juicy custard apple pie. You could be cut-boiled, butter sliced, Chilled garnish-relished, edible delight; You high calorie, high tension diet. Shrieking eagle of the skies in ostrich-tails. Reptile huntress, morni, hawk of our times. Tigress of the Gods, fear in the demons. Brandish not your bloody tongue, divine. The lords of war may be mortified, By your generic super-human forms. Remember the Geeta, the soothsayers words. Gene-Mix, ravishing the human race. Be not knave, blossoming Scarlet Knight , Megredy’s Sunset, you Kiss of Fire, In Anvil Sparks and Careless Love. Fluttering Freesia of the Korde’s. Entice him, with your endearing charms. Blast him with your bombshell attire. Enslave him with your ferocious looks. Drive him from the depths of hell. Drag him beyond the dungeons of sin. Entrance him with flashes of lightening, From the darkened eyelashes, you hide. Ensnare him betwixt your tender lips. Hear the toad croak, beat and rhyme Sailing through the wonders of this earth. With swinging arm and rocking gout Smoking tongue, wine soaked cherry-pick. “I have seen the world and all its sun-tan wonders, Walked along the beaches gold and blue, Seen the almond busts and weeping liberty, I have still, to see a beauty-beast, like you.” Call him swindler, the poisoned man, The demon’s joyous rage, Ravana’s pride. Erode too, The Hindu Trines, they say, Still sweeping you, body soul and mind. Draw not your fangs, the sharpened claws, As Kamla Dass and the Shoba De’s. Shower not torments, on the womens’ mate Work him not to the ills of desperation; (To be continued in part two due to excessive length.)