Looking at her eyes with deep concentration,
to admire, to converse as is the set convention,
But I say let your eyes slip, for once let them slide,
And know you shall at that trip, what had lifted hers with pride,
It is but those perky swells, made prominent by that appealing curve
And as my vision there dwells, slandered I shall be for my nerve
but before the keepers of this tradition erstwhile, shower on me their prejudiced hailstones
the curve I speak of, comes from her smile, the swells that I relish are of her cheekbones.
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