Procrastination

Being so shiftless today,
I'll postpone finding a way
To hunt the luscious prey,
Of your most arousing play.

As you move your curves away,
From my now departed ray,
I enjoy the mildest sway
Of this sensuous delay.

Then I spoil my will's leeway,
With some fine old Cabernet,
Just enough to disarray,
My whole sense of Milky Way.

You may say I went astray,
That my mind wags faraway
And my soul is cast away,
When you come, I'll turn away.