"galleries"

Sandy, I hold the cup in my hand.
Whilst I trip on steps behind you my dear,
spilling the wine upon chalice a band,
that wraps around my finger quite so clear.

It's love to soak my hand of velvet,
an entrenched intrinsic value felt plush,
on my dreams that lift thy heart to covet,
while other men give a half ass push.

As we reach the balcony I slip,
I fall, wine splashing paint on gallery walls,
stained are the tears bled of angels wings clipped,
floating cherubs blush purple love balls.

I look up to see thou smiling thee,
whilst I awake in a French chalet dripping,
wine from the ceiling, you're dancing in leaves,
unto the chandelier drips sipping.