Naturally green
even in coat and dress
the plants landscaping the city streets
choke at your folder collar as it drapes your figure
unable to do anything but acknowledge
your decorous demure
Peach porcelain is the blush sitting at just the right height on your cheeks
fern green eyes and red lips glossed
dark brown hair over one ear
listening to passing sounds of the day
Stepping back into afternoon bustle
the woman who makes scenery balk
What does she have to say when the key to her heart Is unlocked?
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