My mistress,aye!

My mistress’ eye is like a currant bun

Though she has problems,she is utterly divine

Her bosom is quite bold out in the sun.

I hope that she will lend me hers as if it ‘s mine?

My mistress eye looks fine as it is glass

She lost her marbles playing with a fox

She’s good at letting errors whistle past

And mending fuses in that little box.

My mistress ,I am fixed upon her breast.

I see her skin is warm and she does sweat.

I too have lusted and I have confessed

But still she gambles and she places bets.

In truth I am as fickle as a weed

but each must act according to his need.


About Kate Thwaite

I love writing , conversation, art, wild flowers, music and air.And books
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