There she came
Announced by the tip-toeing rhythm of her Stilettos
Her bums suffocating in a micro-skirt and gyrated
Like they were about to escape
From the thin outlines of her thong.
The golden fertility lines trickled lightly
Down her endless orange legs
Shimmering with generously applied lotion.
The V shape of her net-top
Briefly introduced the cleavage on her chest
Her breasts severally nodded
As if recognizing some secret admirer
Her searching eyes spied on an edge of a seat
Where the whiff of her Royale perfume accompanied her
She gathered a mini skirt to cover her yellow thighs-in vain
As her jelly-like hips flowed onto the pew.
She humbled her eyes and mumbled something to the Maker
Then, like the unfolding buds of a daffodil flower
She slowly unveiled her smiling eyes again.
The priest quietly acknowledged her entry
And wittily followed her from the corner of his eye
Stampeded over a few verses, and recomposed himself again.
The hapless believer that neighbored her fidgeted
Quickly dropped an eye at her exposed thighs
And hastily blinked away.
And as I caught ten or more other lustful fools ogling at her
I inwardly whispered to myself:
So you are not burning alone!