Her eyes are like dawn,
But her hair is all dusk:
Its auburn tints flowing down
Over soft round breasts
Which sometimes could be pillows
To unworthy hands;
If only the hands didn't know,
That they were indeed unworthy.
Moving down past her immaculate waist,
Stopping to admire her perfect hips:
Wide, but not too wide,
The kind of hips
That make a man
Crawl on his knees.
The hips support her backside,
Which is soft in appearance
And firm to the touch.
Subliminally it supplements her sexy thighs.
(What lies between them will remain unspoken of,
But just know that it is good.)
Moving down again,
Her calves are no less outstanding
Perfectly toned, and unmarred
By blemish or by scar.
They serve to display the feet,
Which are small and dainty.
These feet are the kind
Which shoe stores won't display,
For to cover them
With cloth or with leather,
Would be a crime against beauty.
Her body overall sings fo both happiness and sorrow.
It has seen troubles and pain
But she continues to radiate,
Continues to shine
With the glory of all the gods,
Placed into one divine female. |
Submission Name: My Goddess
