Her Rub of Rabbit’s Foot – Sonnet Seventeen

Her rabbit’s foot, its tender downy fur,
First touch of every dawn sun’s open rise,
Caressed with care that mornings’ hopes recur,
And in her opened hopes, she gains her prize.

Her hopes, her rub of rabbit’s foot brings to
Her royal chambers, grace of princely come
To fill and give her royal dreams rescue,
Her royal graces blessed in hopes’ succumb.

Long trusting in her lucky rabbit’s stroke
To call a prince to sacred Southern lands.
With longing touch, she hopes his come invoke,
With harder rub and stroke his come command.

If truly rub of rabbit’s foot brings luck,
She hopes that rubbing hers brings princely fuck.