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If you do not know by now,
The most beautiful woman;
Go follow the tracks that shall,
That leads to second to none.
 
The beautiful woman walks,
As she is leaving the trail;
Where the shepherd tends the flocks,
As she is gentle and frail.
 
My true love just like a mare,
For you have a comely face;
Your eyes twinkle as they stare,
And have such style and grace.
 
Your neck like a string of pearls,
And a figure that is bold;
Attitude like little girls,
Having a heart pure as gold.
 
The king is at his table,
As your perfume fills the air;
Making the king unstable,
And intoxicated stare.
 
My beloved is a pouch of myrrh,
That lies at night on my chest;
Hair feels like animal fur,
A comfort while I rest.
 
My beloved is a bouquet,
As a cluster of flowers;
And my mind begins to sway,
Dreaming away the hours.
 
Look at you as my true love,
For you are so beautiful;
Sent down from Heaven above,
The Lord has been merciful.
 
For you look so fair my love,
And so pleasing for to see;
So spread your wings like a dove,
And come fly away with me.





Copyright © 2015 Richard Newton Sherrer




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