Are these the hands that stitched a thousand dresses?
And tender hemmed each one with rapturous preening?
And buttoned, tucked and zipped with sweet caresses?
How I adore thee when thou art machining!
Are these the feverish eyes that, so beseeching,
Do scan the shops for cloth that will impress?
And finding it, with lusty tremblings reaching,
Is this the mouth that cries, "Oh yes, God, yes!"
Are these the legs that run it home, heart heaving,
With magic sighs thy fabric to bewitch?
Thou cast thy spell into the very weaving,
And lock in love 'neath every dainty stitch!
Oh if I could buy one fine shirt from thee,
Then I could wear thy passion next to me!
kissy kissy,
Will
(exit stage left with a flourish)
(and a sigh)
(holding up a card with 'Be My Valentine' on it)
~~~~~~~~~
Remember, if thy cheeks burn pink with shame,
'Tis Shakespeare and not Sylvie that's to blame!
xxx