To a stewardess

Not wizards
can best the enchantment
of a pretty girl.
Her long, smooth legs are divine;
the flow of her hair is magic;
her waves of blonde
are more welcome to me
than sunrise.

Something about the tightness of her body
constricts me also –
holds my heart in an unseen hand –
the way witches of old were famed for.

Maybe all this talk of warlocks and wonder
are but metaphors for a woman’s charm;

For indeed, I can say,
in just the meeting of your eyes,
was all the power and effect
that spells are known for.