A Dream Date

She's heaven's amber midnight eye
Beneath the meridian stars
Wherefrom she tends to edify
All of the things she passes by,
Like gardens with full reservoirs
Where baby bats learn how to fly.
She doesn't even need to try
So splendid are her repertoires
With all the things she'll beautify,
Or effortlessly glorify...
Like bold Parisian cafe noirs
Where chefs are on a cuisine high,
With potatoes only French can fry,
And slice with Moorish scimitars
To aromatically occupy
The debonair Parisian sky
Above some saucy French boudoirs
Where we recline and sweetly spy
Her ambience in rich supply!