Time Is God's Own Gift To Thee-Happly With Her I Spent To Be Poem by Michael Gale

Like a planted flower, her lips to mine...
The two pair of lips sublime so fine.

Magic fireworks exsploded in air...
Lit up yon sky to show i care.

Her red tinted hair ignited my love...
Her fresh shaped figure as if made fro' heavenly made above.

Sent down only to me...
She set my heart free
To love only her warm as well as softened skin so tender and
rested, and gingerly gently.

Her poisoned beauty did drink me in....
As if by the Devil to give in sin.

Tempting her smile as well as sent...
Down to thy own heart did God hath to me lent.

Time is God's own gift to thee...
Happly with her i spent to be.