"Heart Virgin"

Since thou for moons many dost not partake thy passion

From thee, humility quietly escort'th her entirety of heart

Prudent time doth nakedly reveal punctuality precise

Didst thou want to break heart virgin?

Proud of pain thou wouldst wear like a flower crimson

An auroral stain bleeding to thy cuff,

Prize triumphant shown and mock'd to thy guests most favoured

Stage centre would be a solitary tatter'd flower of small worth
held,

Bleeding heart if split would love's fragrance smell

Save for thy nose was thy most fragrant choicest

Aromatic headiness now pruned and cut,

E'en sharpest knife ill-used doth lose his edge

For to be another season, sweet-scented flower next

Albeit unforgotten silhouette of all those since patterned

Farewell ! Precious bloom ne'er to be seen thy unseen sweetness of thy flower sweetest.

`T. Imaan Tretchicovmanicova