Flares which kiss the carpet with a florish, An ostrich feather peeping from an Ascot hat. Shoes which can glide on the thinnest ice, Hand bags with gold clasps designed in Paris,
All his words nailed, Underneath he shakes like jelly, Drum roll announcement, Is he ready to bellow? Trying not to turn a deep yellow, Inside he churns like a washing machine,
Scores of plain white paper, Trunk full of Bavarian buttons, Umbrellas etched with Chinese bamboo scenes, Fat scones squeeshed into a little jam jar, Foam mattresses awaiting the Saturday skip.
Rolling foot steps, One kiss has made bliss beautiful, Moon and sunshine in one, A private party for two, Nearer to heaven's cosy gates, Colliding to kiss, Every glance is golden.