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Ode to Lord Henry's ankles


I have come to sing my homage of Lord Henry's ankles.
At University, I sit and sigh on Henry's ankles.
My modest air, downcast eyes, gazing at Henry's ankles;
I speak, but no notice get, staring at Henry's ankles.
He bows, moves away; out my sight passes Henry's ankles,
And so my poor heart fell down before Lord Henry's ankles.
What shall I say of those taut, lean, lines of Henry's ankles;
I look away, I see other bones, not Henry's ankles,
But my thoughts do drift, wander truely to Henry's ankles.
They do leap the air, march with quick bold strides, Henry's ankles;
They so nimbly dance, and point their toes, Lord Henry's ankles.
Such brawny thews with a vibrant air are Henry's ankles,
My heart warms, belly flutters thinking of Henry's ankles.
Ah, if the love my life had such loins as Henry's ankles.

Alesia la Sabia de Murcia