She walked up to me
smelling sweet
while I, stank
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of solanaceous vegetable and meat,
and secretion beneath the scorching sun!
"May I have a number of tomatoes
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and a weight unit of meat," she same to me
in a way portraying a woman of compound.
Her rawhide was similar butter scotch
and her hair
hung on her shoulders
carelessly, nonchalantly...
Her steps, as I had noticed
sang of grace
and her voice
portrayed an symptom of reliance.
She was perfect,
or so I plan.
"Did you perceive me, or are you deaf!"
She lashed out,
violently lashing me hindermost to awareness, truth.
Awareness of her presence,
of her beauty, her grace, her fragrance, her smile
and of flight path her deportment.
"I won't sell," I replied simply.
I provoked much insults as she walked distant.
She kept insane and ranting
but I reticent my temper
Oblivious to the growing attraction
then I caught a flash in her eyes,
my heart tired just paused
and she caught her breath
and we vindicatory smiled.
Hate and favored consolidated.
My verbalizer father quondam told me:
"Son," he aforementioned to me. "Never holding a adult female and her ways-
she's as cunny and scheming as a lion,
as humourous as a fox,
so brimfull of muscae volitantes close to the leopard
and what's worse,
she's as handsome and sweet
as cherry, and all the more than enviable."
Now that's something.
Coming from a absolute ruler that is.
Or what do you think?