The Tale of BruleeA Poem by NevilleThe Tale of Brulee As she lay there,
on the rear seat of his truck like
that .. Her wheaten coat,
did catch the first few rays
of our new spring and damn me .. If she did not look
near golden .. Just like the burnished cloak
of some high Aztec priest
he thought .. And even from that distance, he
needed Ray Bans for the glare .. While she, did either
feel or hear or smell the breeze of him approaching .. And her rudder started flapping both to and fro and here to there ...........……. x © 2022 NevilleAuthor's Note
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6 Reviews Added on March 3, 2022 Last Updated on March 3, 2022 AuthorNevilleGone West folks....., United KingdomAboutSometimes my imagination get's the better of me and then the pen takes over .. more..Writing
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