Her eyes I, look at as a pair of forbidden treasures

Crystal clear

With pearls in the deep of the blue rounds

Lighting up dark worlds of my ugly past

Her hair, thick and curled

I look at, as finest silk thread

Dipped in dark dyes of dye

Shinning of oils from the old oak tree

And in a full sweep, falls unto her shoulders…

Her nose, coming lose

Down the mouth

Of two luscious servings of shinny glossed lips

Colorful, full and deliciously inviting- so alluring

Cheeks soft with flowery dimples

At every chance of smile or frown, so imagined

Her teeth, sizable pebbles of artistically curved ivory

That throws a glitter, so bright

Catching the wit of this, not so humorous poet.

His caught eyes tall almost asleep

Though in a sweep, awakened by her artistically curved shoulders

Her cleavage revealing a ripe bit of full boobies…

I am interrupted by the jealous photographer; he took the picture thus

It is the portrait of an Angel

Competing thus with Monalisa.