To my Dark Lady

When I saw thine eyes of deepest onyx,

And stroke thy skin, tender as a lover’s kiss,

I knew thou were a predator, a wild lynx;

The key to the lock of my soul’s amiss.

Thine hair of molten amber running down

Thy neck did beget my yearning fantasy;

Let its fragrance fill me, let me just own

Thee for a minute – is that truly heresy?

The fairest of sunsets envy thy smile,

Let me take thee, from thy sweet lips a taste;

Oh, poor Demon, thou didst my heart beguile,

And thou didst my carnal wants gravely raise.

            From all thy kind, those to angels akin,

            Thou art most sublime, my only pumpkin.