Polis Jungle

I am tropical.

The temperate fall together as gathered mist in a hissed, pitter-patter voice.

Vanilla. Cayenne. Cacao. Ginger.

One sweet droplet falls to my skin from above.

I peer out through the rattan and find myself here.

Others plan. While some may, most won’t. 

Charms

Some fine day
One lucky mate
While others clutch their pints
We’ll set a spell
Watch, then walk on by 
Into the green
Arm in arm
Click our heels 
There’s your magic

Lisa

I thought I wore a headdress
I thought I donned glass heels
I thought I had high cheekbones
I thought my soul appealed
But as fate would want it
And I’d not dare deny
The heart I thought had strummed my name
Played Julie’s lullabye