My lofted palace streaks across the fiery sun rise.
While frozen chills, with winds that kill wipes a teary eye.
Frigid words lost in time succumbs to an icy haze.
The moon yawns, twirls a shifting dial to close his darkened plight. Yet tropical winds whispers a soft reggae beat this twilight.
Amidst beckoning libations, tassels and sweets, decadent in nature, but in true deceit. I yielded only your alluring, unpretentious call. My wheels wide open barely touched your gentle sleep.
Palms of silver sashay this starry night, as clouds so ordered dwell with with a lazy delight. Sweetened apples of pine, sways mango's lush side, as banana trees live in a house held high.
Engulfed in tranquil seas made of reflections so blue, warm echoing waves can so easily undo, delicious and fragile as last summer's wine,one sip and swells really don't mind. Island rhythm's pulse to pass the endless time, helps the body and mind truly unwind.
Scented verbs in absence of motions do cry, hid beneath the shades of time they only lie.
This is a wind well traded in time "Negril"
