If I can write the beauty of your eyes.
If I can compose the gentleness in you gaze.
If my rhythmical lines can flow freely across your heart.
My lines, your verse, the tales of endless grace.
Oh holy queen, you rhyme of life.
You coin of gold, the maker of nature’s holy pride
Your voice as sweet surpass drips from honey comb.
Lines of urban wails trails it’s way up to your holy home.
O glorious heaven, O humbled earth!
Gentle breeze that ease men at the wake of war.
O queen of love, my holy most.
No gay, no bleak, you please all age long host.
Greatness is she, her robe so pure.
Grace abound in her, her heart, our juvenile ore.
O ye faithful, carrier of earth’s breed voice.
The cloud your foot rest,on your head lies peace.
In her gentleness she cuddles us.
She is the maker of life, the angel that holds her rhyme.
Faithfulness! Show me her bay.
O ye righteousness guard me to her humble home.
Venus in all her glory could not have promise such love.
Her shades of love, fertilizes the inborn.
Her sweetness our joy, the sorrow, we never share.
He womb carries the divine, the hope of our redemption.