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~~~ Whispering Cusps ~~~
~ Whispering Cusps ... ~
Taketh eyne, that shine so true,
Oak lamps, which light your path, I hew;
Brooch hands of suave, smooth fingered heart,
To feel my warmth, wherest courting starts.
Yea, brace stout guns, which fire for you,
These arms, wrapped round my honey blue,
Thenst part thine lips, which breathe my name,
In soft delight, ‘pon Tarzan, Jane.
Taketh dreams your lover gives,
True myth, where thous sweet beauty lives,
Lo, steal this night, my only heart,
Prithee, bond thy word we’ll never part.