Exotic Scarlet

I watch imagination, to envision flowers bloom, where we

leap into a private dimension. Petals are all about us:

roses, lilies, daisies, and begonias. Indeed, a scent of

alpine aster wafts a vision. I pluck a carnation, and sing

to birds of paradise: you laugh gently, and caress a gardenia.

Our warmth clouds our reason; for we know of animation:

moments grieving, and cosmo pink ideals. But our loins:

fever, favor, and morning glory.

There’s a buffet: deviled

eggs; gourmet salmon, cat fish fillet, hushpuppies, and

gumbo shrimps and oysters. We partake in leisure: ever to

yearn Champaign; and suddenly, an orchard flooded with

bubbles.

Oh to love deep in Moet, sipping Dom Perignon,

tiptoeing intoxication, spirit, and opera.