She strode the streets selling flowers,
her long skirt like billowing clouds on a breeze,
and her red hair vibrant,
ringlets dancing merrily
as she roamed the dark corners of Belize.
Her red hair so out of place
with an Irish father sailor long gone,
but her dark skin and her mothers looks
such a unique barefoot beauty
with that wide seductive smile she would don.
A woven basket over her forearm,
brimming with multicolored blooms,
like a fresh sea breeze coming,
heads turned in synchronicity
as she entered each square and room.
And sales were quick and compliant,
as the men attentive to her wiles,
did blindly reach for bunches,
just to gaze upon her eyes,
and that smile would melt the very time.
Down by the ocean side,
upon the sand she walked with elegant style,
her stride like the waters flow,
her rising and ebbing so mesmerizing,
no one could avert their eyes,
as beauty held them so.
For she was special,
a colored flower in a grey world,
and every day in morning sun,
she alone defused the gloom of daily woes,
with just a smile and the perfume of her blooms,
as if to welcome day’s begin.
The red head girl from Belize,
still walks the streets to welcome morn,
and heads turn, how could they not,
when she walks into a room,
or upon the beach by ocean tides,
as she in beauty’s rise, does captivate every single eye.
Tony DeLorger © 2018
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