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joy, u remind me of a io unit course i read in school

vimcy, u've just got to wait till it ripe

There is a garden in her face
Where feelings and love grows
A heavenly paradise is that place
Where in all pleasant fruits do flow
There seductions grow which non may buy
Till it ripe

Those seductions are beautiful to behold
Which when her lovely laughter shows
They look like honey comb filled with honey
Yet neither peer nor price can buy
Till it ripe

The apples of her eyes like angels watch them still;
Her eye lashes like well trimmed flowers
Eye lid like bended bow do stand
Threatening with piercing frowns
To kill all that attempts the fruits in the garden
With eyes or hand
Till it ripe

Oh! Miss Jane
My hands are fertile
Let them in perhaps they could hasten
The maturity of this fruits of yours
My wet lips ready to water your beloved garden
Yet nor sermon nor sooth words can buy them
Till it ripe

Oh! Wretched boy
I’ve waited in vain for so long
N now I can’t wait
Till it ripe


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