Once inside her inner tramp takes over. 

Low light and just enough

for a girl her own. 

Greeted by cross wind 

west to east. 

Open windows and the 

door to the portico. 

Gives her the appearance 

walking on air. 

A high to die for right then. 

He walks heavy on 

the back stairs. 

Lamb and a pumpkin sun as garnish 

fills the air with its redolence. 

Zest. Red wine best. 

Slow cook and melt like kiss.