How Beautiful She Poem by Garth Wesley Oatway

Doth her name invoke thee
pleasantries and ecstasies?
Doth sweet dreams invoke in thee
of She so elegant and bliss?

A'lass thine will not forget.
What She invoked in thee with just a kiss...
Just one kiss was all it took for thou to miss.
To miss her, Miss She, thy one thine will not forget.

To perceive intuitively her divine imagery's,
which entice thine' mind with soothing thoughts.
And if thy were to see fair She
thine words would be.

Spoken with charm of noble countryman.
Spoken to her the most beautiful woman.
Thy will appease her with a gift in tongue.
From thy humble lips words are sung.

'Why Miss She thy breath you do take,
yet in its place you awake,
the most sensual sensation.'
She awoke still waters from thine's deepest basin.

O an ignorance to remedy for She so unaware.
That not to tell her will terribly wear,
thine in being thine self.
She knows not the love for her, from thyself.