Author: merja
Date:Jul 1 2003
needs like silver, tarnish lest polished
and the piano needs tuning.
Angers at rest, claims staked best.
My lady, drop your velvet dress,
Reveal your prefect breast.
Dreams of hidden veils and dancing candlelight,
Yet years go by and they all die,
Seven times seven generations despair,
Curse not the ground you walk upon;
Do not tear lovely hair.