Aoide! What Glistens On Thy Lips? Poem by Captain Cur

Aoide, long hast thou suffered in thine art,
my love attests to unseen pleasing's that thou brings
thy mortal host, though immortal be thy heart!
Aroused by song remove thy shroud and sing
sensual notes beyond my coarse imaginings.
What glistens on thy lips? Initiate my ears,
to my eyes thy fingers strum all the more enticingly;
beyond the passion of my youthful years,
beyond this flesh, bound to the music of thy lyre.