AFRODITES DAUGHTER. 

She sat,
All washed up,
Whipping her brow,
Her dripping brow,
Hiding her eyes
With shades,
For the Day was hot,
And the Day was long,
And burnt her so,
Coiled,
Or Pilled,
Is this Man Magnet,
Oh beached Morning Star,
Now with Sands between your 
 Toes,

Is this twentieth centrary Kid ,
Now on the Bloc 
 mmm