BOTICELLI VENUS

Rising up demurely from a shell
Amidst a most turbulent sea swell.
Her red tresses trickle from her head,
Mostly behind like tail extended,
But some held over her pudenda,
A scene at once both hot and tender.
Her right hand covering her right breast
Leaves the other exposed on her chest.

There is both innocence in her eyes
And prescience of the age-old wise.
Her name would connote unchastity
But she shows maiden-like modesty
With her skin an alabaster white,
She steps, immaculate, into sight.
A pretty sight to rouse the penis –
That’s Boticelli’s Birth of Venus!