Poetry - Stacy

Thou art compared to a muse,
Like a spring of love!
Lust of thy love is a noose,
Thou maketh my heart like a stove!

On a forest amid desert,
Shyness overloads my soul!
It makes me hide in a closet,
Not like a lion but rather a mole!

I see thy wonder in school,
With thy face so beautiful,
Oh when i see thee, my lips drool!
I love thou clothing so loose,
Oh lust of thy love is no ruse,
When i see thy face, there be no snooze!!!