There they go, the lovely ladies,
Sashaying down the exotic shore,
Their sashay of sunflower fields,
Attuned with the symphony of waves,

Its hymns like the moonlit wind,
Caressed around the crescents,
Of their hips,

If bliss was an open embrace,
With golden and exotic brunnette hair,
Naked of cares,
Flowing with love, within the moonlight,

Sashaying bliss,
This was a crescendo,
with warm cool waves,
And forever as a kiss,

Her sweet tenderness, wild in her exotic,
Brunnette lovers gaze,
that sighed with warm and sweet pleasure,
with the stars,
and the full and deep,
glowing moon
Reynaldo Casison