Mixed Metaphors of love

Canst thou, Cilla, palest petal,
Resist the thrust of Heavy Metal,
The chance, perchance, to beat my panel,
Severn Bore up your English Channel?

Wilt thou, Cilla, fairest flower
Not deign to climb my Eiffel Tower
Or coat my cote of British boeuf
In sizzling jus of soixante-neuf?

Dar’st thou, Cilla, Beauty’s daughter,
Cup my pestle in your mortar
Or let my vessel homeward roam
Careening proud and flecked with foam?

Please understand, O maiden solemn,
I’ll stand as long as Nelson’s Column;
So cede to me your maidenhood –
I have more drive than Tiger’s wood.