Be it that he might
Kneel before the grace of You, basking in
Aphrodite’s Divine Light.
O, that he should walk the desert
Under the watchful gaze of Amon-Ra and
Through the myopia that is the night.
O, that he should think nothing of deprivation
From Pan’s gastronomic delights
And delight himself in the sparcity of
A grain of rice.
O, that he should self-flagellate
With a feline beast so marvellously ornate
Is to simply be polite, and show true love
For his Goddess.
(Written aged 19 for my pissed off girlfriend)