In the cold September space
I saw the warming of my life’s days
In the middle of nowhere I was led out of the maze
By some charm that butters my heart like mayonnaise
Something that still fresh and exciting

I met a girl with a splash of beauty
Her hair was brown and like the hays in the Texas fields
Her warmth was radiating and engulfing
And her words like the song lyrics of the village guitarman
She’s the obelisk of my heart’s fascination

In my eyes she’s like the fairy tale sleeping beauty
She’s the kind that makes the frost melt
The day that I saw her, I felt my heart being baked
Just like the panfried French crêpes pancakes
She’s a darling and luscious to the eyes

If she’s not my type, then we can as well make other conclusions
That the bees don’t like the nectar from the blueberry
Because she comes with just the right volume
And pops up as just the perfect blend
She’s my kind of medicine; my type of ataraxia

For in the days to come, I choose to be pre-occupied
To be chained with the thought of spending time with her
I choose to dream of her feat of magic
The kind that splashes on people and they become whole
Because I can tell that she’s the caramel to my absorption