Oh, hunky foreman, lord of steel and stone,
your pecs gleam a sheen that rivals sunlight.
Each brick you lay resonates a tone,
a song sung by your hammer's forceful flight.

Your biceps flex like beams - what strength and form!
Your jaw's so square, your grin could hypnotise.
In a flurry, you build and bank - then storm
away as quick as this beguin begins and dies.

Penned by my hand on the 12th of Mayan, in the year 1009 AF.