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Be My Bride.

Curly lockets of finely spun hair,
Eyes expressive of the soul.
Please forgive the way I stare,
For now I know I have reached my goal.
Your delicate face those rosebud lips,
Have brought my wanderings to an end.
As I caress your face my fingers won't slip,
As my hearts love I to you send.
Take me sweet maid, for I am yours,
I will be but clay in your hands,
Mould me, as you will I am sure.
Make me into your perfect man,
Let our hearts beat true in rhythmic time.
A precious wonderful love will be ours,
Our actions will be in perfect mime.
As I lead you into my rose filled bower,
The first sweet kisses of our love.
Will put blushes to many a flower,
You my first heaven sent dove.
I your true loving radiant boy,
Our wildly beating hearts will be of joy.
Tranquillity will be our guide,
As I shyly ask you to be my bride.


© Bernard Shaw

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