Like petals of a rose not fully formed
Arranged, tightly knit and barely scented.
Love, that’s appertaining to some magic
That’s the kind of charm makes all bees frantic.
Such innocents; bewitches hearts of men
A long slender neckline – equestrienne
Looking pale-skinned and fine in black jodhpurs
Setting hearts racing for loving favours.
Not body sprayed all over hard-core types
Mudpack-faces that plastic archetype
Dusk to dawn, with one hand a pompadour.
‘Not that kind of women all hearts race for’.
Men want feisty yet a little demure
Not full of slap heads full of manure.
Not some loud female barbershop quartet
A rose of some graces – we want to procure
Love eternally for twos duet.
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