UntuitionHard to follow

Puss in Boots

Black lace over the lampshade creates haze
It is hard work to climb up
To a mound so smooth and steep
A landscape for sore eyes and long days
In absence leads poor men to weep

Then she will hover
As naive lambs, they start off sober
Her piercing stare adds to the fuel
Burning matchsticks to a spilled perfume
Break and enter, steals the royal jewels