Her neck is long and pale as bleached sea salt,
Her short hair shows her ears. The look is Fay.
Those long and lovely legs with ease convey,
That she is there for more than just her malt.
So lovely, young and perfect, just one fault,
Sweet love and lust for tourists on display,
With love for any, love for all, who pay,
At noon, or under Heaven’s starry vault.
Her hair of cinnabar is soft as down,
Those green eyes teeming with a zest for life,
She seemingly is worth her weight in gold,
Her pretty cotton dress is red and brown;
She takes to her and breeds a world of strife,
Such bitter tears will flow when she’s grown old.