a study toward sonnet #794 by FisherKingKQJ
Those beestung lips I thoroughly worship,
Enticed with mysteriously mouthing mime;
Aloud she whispered, for me, "boor" let slip,
I sashayed past her crowd to fix the clime.
She covered her mouth with a hand sublime,
Veined marble, shadowed white alabaster,
Her friends laughed at her joke before its time,
Splayed her fingers, fingered said disaster.
Yet she was still urged onward diss faster,
She conned my anxiety and stiff unease,
Changed my sad looks now as gallant blaster,
What I thought myself, she wrote off tease.
I was no bore, grabbed meekly her life bouy,
I could wear their snide remarks as her boy.
(Chorus)
o $10,000 bouy
o $10,000 marker
o $10,000 signpost
[Autocube3 - for 3d interactive movies.]