Passion In a Gondola
Hello my exotic, glorious maiden,
By now they all know you are taken.
I possessively, poetically, clearly, and eloquently
Told them you are promised to me, a sensual, delicately,
Known beauty, could not marry a canal walk about, a
Wannabe, curling his moustache and swinging his cane,
With no title or aristocratical fame,
And who is just playing a game.
He drinks he smokes, he womanizes, and he is fat
His face ruddy red, he belongs in the sewers with rats.
Every time I see you mon amour, be it every minute
Of every day, my heart goes aflutter,
Concerned my romantic words will go asunder.
As I helplessly stutter.
You push up your corset, and alluringly overflow,
My lovely, anymore tightening, you will explode.
Your thigh high slits in your dresses tantalize men,
And with your matching parasol you look so irresistible,
No one in this town matches your looks, not even contestable.
Love of my life I love you as you be, my mistress soon to be wife,
For the rest of my life.
Time drags by so slow,
I want a ring on your finger,
Then I will whisk you away, to my Chateau,
You blow so many kisses, I know they are for me,
Your blue-eyed wink, a secret code that we will meet in the
Gondola and enjoy our passion,
You are breathtakingly beautiful, considered to be quite the catch,
We have known from our teens, that we were the perfect match.
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