Beauty

The beauty of each written word must run
In rivulets across this page I tend;
And, if the page is thickly bound and done
To death in learned seminars, I'll blend
In with the audience, to view each face,
And trust the sentences exercise minds,
That would, in secret, slyly, try to trace
The paths of impure thoughts, that aren't unkind
To those who let their ideas slowly roam
Across the paragraphs, as they soon learn
To wish that they were in their beds at home,
Ready to let their naughty minds discern,
Each sensual sigh, as their delight's conferred;
And adds such beauty to each written word.