There she is, in the distance, coming my way, wearing a pair of suede carmine high heels, swaying like the sea, back and forth, forth and back.

She lowers her head in maidenly modesty, for she knows she is beautiful, she knows she is the essence of femininity.

So soon was she along as he was down,
Each leaning on their elbows and their hips

She is captured in stride. The muscles and contours of her incredibly smooth legs reflect in the sun. The red suede blanches against her bare foot. Her bosom bewitches. The photographer is disarmed.

Now doth she stroke his cheek, now doth he frown,
And 'gins to chide, but soon she stops his lips

And kissing speaks, with lustful language broken,
'If thou wilt chide, thy lips shall never open.'

He burns with bashful shame: she with her tears
Doth quench the maiden burning of his cheeks

Two provincial girls have just arrived in town. Their fashion styles make for a great contrast. I'll take both of them. Who am I to discriminate?

Then with her windy sighs and golden hairs
To fan and blow them dry again she seeks

He saith she is immodest, blames her 'miss;
What follows more she murders with a kiss

Even as an empty eagle, sharp by fast,
Tires with her beak on feathers, flesh and bone

Shaking her wings, devouring all in haste,
Till either gorge be stuff'd or prey be gone

I love those the pose of the brunette, whom I actually find quite sexy. She is completely my type.

Even so she kissed his brow, his cheek, his chin,
And where she ends she doth anew begin

Note the tawdry heels.

Forced to content, but never to obey,
Panting he lies and breatheth in her face;
She feedeth on the steam as on a prey,
And calls it heavenly moisture, air of grace;
Wishing her cheeks were gardens full of flowers,
So they were dew'd with such distilling showers.