my retention is poor
and i forget the law
which is your trusting gaze
intent upon my innocent ways
but i am shooed-off your caring hands.
many times have i wished for perfect harmony
and now found- a garden
but not so with your gaze altering 'mammy'
to make waste of my bidding.
brandishing your nipply flaming swords,
those two seraphim,
your prudely breast buds
poke fun at my protruding brat
seeing my mind leap before my heart
like shadow before the form.
and so i withdraw;
quick! at the ascent of my pulse
lest your impression be false
seeing my naked and my shame
before ever you do my charm.
and when i retreat, so truly
shrinks the sword's captive of my 'pony'.
if there was no such law as you
never would there have been sin of me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem