Posted by Admin on 24 February 2008, 12:00 am
When tenderly your hands displace,
in ecstasy to wake my nerves,
that dainty screen of silk and lace,
revealing full those wondrous curves;
what pillared marble may compare
its Grecian grandeur then with thee;
what Moorish colonnade so fair
would challenge ankle, thigh or knee,
whose symmetry would rival that
of deities by myth acclaimed,
who from Olympian habitat,
ethereal in beauty reigned,
for gracious nymph such contours were designed,
the soul of beauty by the flesh defined.
T. C. Hudson
3rd February 1941
© T. C. Hudson.
Village
Parish Council