In a magical twist
in the parlour of my whist
her luxuriant eyes efused a twist
engulfed within beauty's mist.
First I vied to be fast
to tranquillise her thirst
and give the arena a fist.
Before she felt me at her wrist.
Like a beast,
I was close; abreast,
to give the mist my twist
and secure my whist.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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