Folies De Femmes

In scarlet tunic rare a concubine With subtle limbs, and breasts laid bare For me to kiss. Soft eyes that sadly shine A nubile maiden slave, intensely fair, Strange frightened rose. A pagan priestess pale Wearing a clinging robe of silvergreen. In silken slashéd gold a houri frail With veiléd face, mere child of seventeen. But though my senses often are akin To wretched trafficking, my soul is gold And sails upon the winds, a harlequin Unstained by sin and fearless as of old. You are the lovely laughing columbine Who fills my heart with dazzling amber wine.