O well!

O well! I am romancing you !
Too late, here is my voodoo
Charm on a beautiful soul!
When done, you’ll say foul!

I heard you saying Modou is
Of a kind, for words of his.
Blame it on Margarite of Cape,
Cause your beauty I can’t escape.

I said you were will be my muse
Of course, a word some most abuse
We know alas more than once
Just for the sake of vile romance.

But when the poem is done-
By no higher power can be undone-
You’ll see how much of desire
Lady of The North you inspire!