A beatific Belle

A Beatific Belle

A beatific belle has fallen from Elysium
filled with many honeyed properties against dark-odium

The oysters with glorysome encomiums
recognises her with void opprobriums

What is this image that makes my stone
a paradise?  A  Divine tone
of bafflement- Or shall I
say on my soul Yon, lies
a morning-tour Into lovers hydrous eyes:
a newly hewed Nirvana for my
fresh love bash?
This, I can never deny
or else I receive a lash

Her sophisticating visage glows
it maddens the unconscious image, low
in love’s drunkenness

The ambling of her amorously gracious feet
like Diana’s brawling sticks,
makes my heart pricks
passionately, even to the anguish of the zit
household on my uncultured puss
“This is no fuss”

She lives amidst of the stars
she falls with the dew in the cloud’s car
redesigned by the sun’s incandescence
and prettified more on the roses
and sited on Helen’s passionate fence

Just a touch! Like a torch’s touch
my whole soul receives much
a transformation into a pond of
untouched honey
to boot, I am burdened with love
naught can buy it off; not even money

O! Who do you call ‘sweet pie’!?
When I a ‘sentimental prisoner’!
Am ready to die
in the pleasurable pen of lovers

Do as your affection instructs
Open thou, the gates of soul-sweetening lucks
Yell I for your passion, duck!
In you there is a vegetation of happiness
Next to it is a handcuff of an unbreakable blissfulness
you are what you are:
‘A beatific Belle’

Accept my semblance; do not mar
with your eyes, me or else I become lone, early

Just accept me
O! My pulchritudinous belle
for my belly is filled with merry