In the end, it came to pass
Through long wistful pleasures,
O'er grand milky smooth grass
Seeking strain over graded measures.
I was happy and full of life,
I did not mean the whispers;
Catatonic folly, I flew awry
And the smooth image still lingers.
Unfurling your tinder sugary box
And magic kindness of words you sent,
To be placed above the flask
Friend, your compassion was never spent.
Rosy cheeks and dimpled laugh,
Willowy aquamarine lace velvet-blue.
Over such sun-tanned gaffe
In saturated beauty; long, dark curls spread anew.
Aroma of jivey spashiness and a nice Merlot,
Springy steps peeling the colors off
A flurry of peaches and cream-tinged Cointreau.
Was that her in Givenchy, jeans slightly brushed-off?
Gauntly placed on box-spring curves
The traveler with hands akimbo,
Savoring the motions of words
Galloping from her tasty limbo.
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