Lass

[R.C. KITCHENS]

O how I dream of raven tresses,
Soft brown eyes that leave me breathless,
Angelic hands, and dainty feet,
A smile like sunshine, bringing me
Light in the darkness of my heart,
A love so pure, with no regard,
Of the demons who whisper in my ears,
O! How I hold this lass so dear!


I was kinda going for a little archaic feel in the poem...

The second to last line breaks the flow a little. maybe "The demon whispers to my ears"