Te Auroa whistled high to hoist the mood
The pool reflected back to her her face
The tohitohi surfaced silver hued
A dragonfly asserted silent grace
Though chosen by excitable elite
The brains and beauty led to lonely snare
That demigoddess gifted head to feet
Then worried over girls of lesser ware
Id value him a sweet and simple soul
If low on luck that makes us deuce and deuce
A chance at happiness our common goal
A mythical trope might yet be of use
An inkling him the milk and me the cream
That octopus escapes in cloud of dream
Chorus cream crema creme
