Scent, Not Beach, Beauty, But Not Cornwall. To my Friend Chris Mills (Cam8510)
Some prefer the overhanging foliage’s,
Hugging the narrow lanes in Cornwall,
Forming a long procession of azaleas, tulips and daffodils,
Whispering to the seasons, while walking their dawns.
Their beaches add serene respite,
As one seeks to escape the stresses of everyday living.
I see the cute petite and debonair French allure,
Curves sparkling in the moonlight.
Walks with music, hips dancing…
Increasing the ticker in my ... tic... tock!
Auburn-tinted hue, mesmerising my gaze,
Lips wet from an undying need,
To sample this extra special delivery,
Scented with a flowery fragrance.
Sweet lavender! Thy wafts speaks
Volumes in my heart as I see her,
Bounding and swaying to life’s innate symphonies.
Come! My Queen, give me petite, not blonde;
Scent, not beaches; beauty, but not Cornwall.
-Manatita, The Lantern Carrier. ©Copyrighted, 24th July, 2016