By The Scorpion of Mars

Feel the armour of God

Past the golden gates and pearled floors of all seven

To rose tinted skies - see pure souls are leaven

Where silver adorned elbows and hands

Encase thy skin with the shine of Heaven

Pouring paradisal wine as the fairy flutes roll

Tugging on strings of my torn chest whole

Somehow cupid’s arrowed chances

Are a fraction of my own Love’s sum

And thus this fountain pen dances

To the beat of her heart’s drum

In the Open Air