Galatea
Pygmalion beseeched Aphrodite:
goddess, please answer my plea:
“Give life to my dear Galatea,
that she may live always with me. “
The goddess, in a generous mood,
animated your figure Divine.
Your breasts, generous in proportion,
Your bubble butt one of a kind.
Your skin is a fine alabaster;
Like marble, but warm to the touch.
Could your sculptor have done any better?
No, I’m sure there is only one such.
With golden, shoulder length tresses
and lips, apple red, candy sweet.
It’s not much of a mystery, really,
That Pygmalion was swept off his feet.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Added by Poetry Lover
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