Im Her Wooden Spoon

Thea is a beautiful flower,
and I want to pick her petals...
If love were a metallurgist,
we would be it's metals.

Like rays of light, Thea shines
through the curtains of my heart.
To be in love with Thea
is to be in love with Art.

Harmonious and rhythmic
like the phases of the moon,
Thea is my passion soup,
and I'm her wooden spoon.

My hands are boats-a-sailing
on the seas of Theas skin.
My lips are noble soldiers
in a war they've sworn to win.

My eyes are sacred temples
encompassing my shrine
dedicated to Thea,
the one, the only, mine.