My cheeks are pink-flushed
Madly you make me blush
My pulse races horribly fast
But you make my heart stop.
Dragons and cackling witches
In a magical playing field
The poor damsel in the story
But the golden sword she wields.
ON LIFE AND DEATH
Living might be my wed wife
But Death, she’s my mistress
For when I finally tire of Life
Death’ll relieve me of all its stress.
ON BEING SPOILED
You used to be like cold milk
Simply sweet and pure white silk
But they left you out too long then
And now you’re spoiled rotten.
I glimmer with sheer iridescence
Floating softly without defence
But alas, this quaint beauty is fragile
Once I pop, gone forever is my smile.