It was either awe
Or ether
Which put me under your
Fell spell, my dear Aretha.
I heard you soar.

Your choloroform
Of roses
Invaded, made me warm:
Those vocals, one supposes.
They brought a storm.

Such treacherous effect
Is awesome.
No riots? I expect,
Unquiet, you will cause some.
Give me Respect.

From the book Rime Present