DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Leprechaun, v. 1, issue 4, March 1945

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Leprechaun, v. 1, issue 4, March 1945

Page 10

10   L e p r e c h a u n

BARKILPHEDRO CONWAY:

* * * In the Elisabethan Vein * * *

'Twere ease itself to praise your eyes,
Compare them to volcanic skies;
Or dwell upon your soft, warm lips,
Recall to mind your slender hips.
With lightning speed my memory 
  grows
A picture of your ten bare toes
Creeping across my apartment floor --
My own ten following -- who knows
  what for?
I can't forget your lovely breasts --
Your nipples, candidates for best;
The sweet, small curves of your 
  derriere
Waiting for hands that are always 
  there.
Caught in my heart is your sunburst
  smile;
For one of those I'd fly a mile;
To gently kiss your columned thigh
Is no mere dream of sky-baked pie.
My hand upon your arched Gate
Of Heaven is the mage of fate;
Or deep within you -- when time has
  passed
A delicate boy reclines at last.
All this and more I need not tell
Forever I shall know it well.
A still, small voice within me cries
The truth through Autumn's tinkling
  skies
             for
The Magic Mirror on my wall
Says you're the fairest one of all.

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10 L e p r e c h a u n BARKILPHEDRO CONWAY: * * * In the Elisabethan Vein * * * 'Twere ease itself to praise your eyes, Compare them to volcanic skies; Or dwell upon your soft, warm lips, Recall to mind your slender hips. With lightning speed my memory grows A picture of your ten bare toes Creeping across my apartment floor -- My own ten following -- who knows what for? I can't forget your lovely breasts -- Your nipples, candidates for best; The sweet, small curves of your derriere Waiting for hands that are always there. Caught in my heart is your sunburst smile; For one of those I'd fly a mile; To gently kiss your columned thigh Is no mere dream of sky-baked pie. My hand upon your arched Gate Of Heaven is the mage of fate; Or deep within you -- when time has passed A delicate boy reclines at last. All this and more I need not tell Forever I shall know it well. A still, small voice within me cries The truth through Autumn's tinkling skies for The Magic Mirror on my wall Says you're the fairest one of all.