Ode to a Girl in a White Sheet

(this poem is dedicated to beautiful women everywhere wearing sheets over their heads)

Her honeyed lips are all I know
When first my angel passes by
Beneath a sheet like fallen snow

With Cupid's aim, her mouth his bow
(do arrows make her strings pull tight?)
Her honeyed lips are all I know

In Luna's house, love's never shown,
but hooded eyes give secret signs
beneath a sheet like fallen snow

she doesn't speak, she wanders though
with sneaky kisses from behind
her honeyed lips are all I know,
 

and who can know her fingers roam
with all that warming hands can find
beneath a sheet like fallen snow?

Below her softly gasping smile
my bow will stroke her cello right
her honeyed lips are all I'll know
beneath a sheet like fallen snow.