George Simmers - Skin

 

To call it alabastery
Insults its subtle mastery
Of light and shade, of texture and of hue,
As it runs from hill to hollow
(How my fingers long to follow!)
So smooth and oh so sinuous,
So charmingly continuous
That while to count each jolly
Little follicle is folly,
It’s the one thing that I really want to do.

Some are mad for lips or wiggles;
Some go nuts for girlish giggles,
And eyelashes have done for quite a few
But what drives me far insaner
Is the undulant container
So deliriously chock-a-block with you. 

George Simmers
(From An Essay on Rhyme and other verses)