From the Arabian night, I called her near;
The sight of the sacrosanct of blissful smoulder;
It was the mattered matter and then the friendship
What it was then was the flag, the native bay;
By defines, she refines; by design she negates resigns;
On the catalogue of esteem, she’s extreme;
The behooves molds the pro at the expense of the con;
Come see what I’ve found, an ellipsis in trigonometry;
A sequin of topaz on a tapestry of jacinth and beryl;
Molds of emancipated gladness on a breather of freshness;
Young and beautiful, purport to many modesty and refined in enterprise;
The belle could never be overpriced, you can’t sum up her whole;
Gold dust of her raiment lies in the virtues she portrays;
Yet she goes like the float of gentle air on wild waters;
The biddings of earth owns a beacon from Langshire
The burden so light the mass isn’t measured by balance;
Search for all you care, look for with a diligent spirit;
Get weary in the curse that drags the seekers of vile;
This virtue of this raiment you’d never find in yokelore than of Langshire;
The necklace only always has a pendant, and a penchant;
The eirenach is here and this is how it is, keep your chin hung;
Read in between the lines, see how the expression is done;
And watch the celebration that behooves my life.

Written by Animula Vagula on my birthday, 25th January



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