Turkish delight, rose scented with pistachios in a little wooden box

Velvet journals in midnight blue, brass pen that rolls on

my husband the lustful and fecund pan

An ideal for the Creatrix that I am

mermaid lore at the bank of the wild sea

fairy tale dresses in embroidered corsetry and cap sleeves

i heard people can grow sick without beauty 

but not us who are in ever adornment, they say to forget your troubles - adorn 

covered in leaves and flowers like those omo valley fauns

celebrate and sing yourself and live only for me

Black hair to my waist and our own private brilliancy 

Boheme bride that I will always be.

[Spontaneous verse needs much editing]