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Musing: To Thee Fairest

I shall listen to you
Though you distract me
The mirror is your pal
And she like seeing your face
When the days sleep
And all seems to be blank
In my mind and on my face
Your face glow in the dark
A light shining upon the night
And the curves of your mouth
All steadied in a mocking smile
But I peer into your face
Even when all I see are paints
You must be a very good artist;
The eyelashes are tinted black
The mouth is colored dark red
And the chins are pinkly hued
All about, there is a riot of colors
And your face like a masquerades
Who’s out for some revenge
Running down the village square
In pure mix of ire and wrath
The winds do embarrass you, perhaps
See your gentle pretty face
Grinning at the mirror, pouting
The best asset in this house
And if I was scared of you
Maybe I had a dream of a masquerade
After my heels, and I yelling
Running for dear life, and muddled
And what if you let it stay natural,
I mean, your pretty blessed face?
Then and only then, shall I come to you