Your little, little eyes,
Lashes wee,
Your little brows,
Together is
Poetry.
My motet
My mote.
How can you be so small?
I wait upon your smile,
You’re so beguiling,
You’re all perfect,
You’re
My motet
My mote.
Your sounds complete a song,
And when that ditty’s sung,
I know that you’ll
No longer fit
In my pocket.
My motet
My mote.
You’re mine,
Mine,
Mine, all mine.