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.