The lovely ladies,
Are on their love sofa,
In their red and iris dresses,
Fanning,
Themselves,
With fancy vintage fans,

Their ever love,
Like a pendulum,
Between the familiar,
And the exotic,

The golden haired ones,
Kiss is so sweet, warm,
And deep,
As if it flowered from,
The luminous depths,
Of her tender soul,
That the brunnette,
Sighs, and fancy fans herself,
Between her sips of wine,

The exotic brunnettes,
Kiss is so tender,
Enchanted, and deep,
It lingers upon her lover,
From her lips,
To within the ever garden,
Of her soul,
That the golden haired lady,
Sighs, and fancy fans,
Herself,
Between her champagne sips,
As the moonlight dips,
And the jazz is honey rivulets,
Of the vineyard evening
Reynaldo Casison