Dare to be Drab?

Really?

Must mediocrity prevail?

No dreams allowed?

No light and shade to make curvy casting on the wall?

Really?

Who wrote that script?

The dirt hums and the mountains sing

Y’know

I hear laughter in your eyes

And frothy pudding flows from your cup

Instead, let’s frolic the fandango

Castanets clicking in the summer sun

The guitarist spinning around himself

As voluminous skirts tell a sensuous tale

You and I meet in the middle

Fingers groping our luscious parts

Words emerging from our lips

Kissing and speaking in alternate measure

How grand to find you here