Stars, and Sheer Stockings

Stars, and sheer stockings (with reinforced toes), constellate verses from words of plain prose. Shoelessness, shyness--- so unlike the world--- make a sweet refuge for passions unfurled. In rapture's splendor, I kneel down---enthralled (outside, Ephebe's gut wrenches, appalled). My Muse turns pleasure to ultimate bliss, giving her sheer-sheathed feet for my kiss. (Outside, Ephebe appoints himself judge; but his conniptions are based on a grudge.) Here is my Muse in pleased intimation, bringing a surely sheer inspiration. Hers is the presence in my poems (this means she frolics throughout the settings and scenes). And that sweet presence is joy to partake--- all the night long in--- the love that we make. Mitylene banished, Gomorrah destroyed; peace, in her soft voice, is fully deployed. To real Salvation, she led me---a soul troubled and broken: and Christ made me whole. How can I thank Him for that, then for her; then for the blessings that keep my hope sure? In Christ, our love is not bound to time's whim, but ever secure--- committed to Him. Therefore the sky's arc, the moon and the sun no longer clock us as we become one; as in Love's temple, on me she bestows stars, and sheer stockings (with reinforced toes).   Starward