Whence You wear a sarong,*

Wearing a sarong,
Draping you like a song,
Whence You think of touching
Waters by feet Thine,
The after noon coming down
On your shoulders, arms,
Glittering like little specks
Of gold, Sandy how your soft legs be,
Our holidaying at the beach, by the sea,

Wearing a sarong,
Wrapping yourself, like a song,
Whence you put your feet,
Into waters cool, foaming around,
The after noon calming us,
At the resort, how we our idle times pass,
I looking at you, writing Feverish,
You by Beauty, on canvas painted figures
Whence by Venus, growing out of oyester shell,

Like a Diva true,
like a bliss,
  catch my view,
My wandern lust,
So unleashed.

(*Note: based loosely on a painting as attached, done by V.Volegov.

The painting is gifted to me, by a friend mine.)


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