If I could tickle your toes, my Rose
And stroke your sumptuous bottom
‘Twould mean my dear, you’re here, quite close
And all my joys – I’d’ve got ‘em
For powerful as the peerless thought
Is, that your presence lingers
Its best when in the flesh you’re sought
And found by my rapturous fingers
- And eager eyes. Tonight! Tonight!
I’ll find you in my touch and sight.