Hearts of Hoarfrost

Sir if you please,
I’ll get down on my knees—
My efforts to win your love are plenty.
I’ll bet to hold your attention
And get you to mention
my beauty, well...the possibilities are many;

Even cock-loving Wilde’s leer I could capture,
and suck into my rapture--
My abilities I can’t help but defend.
Yes, you may find it alarming,
But to most men I’m charming;
With these charms most would never contend;

Yet, I picture your ideal:
Her eyes bluer than steel,
Trilling her melodic and heavenly voice;
A buxom seaside girl
With flaxen springing curls;
An angel created by Joyce.

Well, I’m sure if I wear this,
Or continue to say this,
You’d scramble to lie by my side.
And your consistent denial
Of having me around for a while,
Will, God-willing, eventually subside.

After all, in regular fashion—

Even with Gonne-obsessed Yeats I’d imagine—

Men are sucked into my beam.-

This image of perfection I’ve painted,

Has been so highly rated,

Most boys get obsessed with my gleam.

So, if you’re not so sure

That I should be your whore,

I'll simply set all my clocks to your time.

How clearly you deny me

In an effort to try me!

To resist this is simply a crime.  

I've made myself easy,

Some might call me breezy,

It will be no struggle to get between my knees--

So when you come to your senses,

And stop putting up fences

I’ll open up for you, my love…rest at ease.