Ganache

[nightlock]

Her eyes, for all to see, so sweet
Windows to her most amorous soul
Begging me to remain discreet
Lest my ship run ‘pon undiscovered shoal

Her skin, as pure as cream
And hair colour’d a choc’late brown
Hers’ a visage most supreme
The work of an artist of great renown

Yet due to a fate most tragic
This angel, I shall not possess
I deserve not a creature thus cosmic
So ‘pon my soul I must confess:

I will forego my claim of this angel
And from afar look ‘pon this aerial