by Sybil Levin
I'm a quiet sort of person, with somewhat modest needs.
But… my limousine gently purrs away the journey to the Ritz,
Protecting me vigilantly.
To escort me, tall, dark, silent types who drape me, tastefully, in exotic garb
and soft-as-a-whisper, crushed velvet gowns to reveal my creamy curves.
Lingering in my wake, clouds of unforgettable, sensuous Christian Dior.
The doorman, eyebrow raised, barely nods
Whilst ferrying the trinkets of a harried day in Mayfair to my lofty pied-à-terre.
When the sun is setting, the ocean of azure blue laps at the
Rose-petal-strewn deck of my summer beachfront lair.
Just the view of my discreet yacht, gently bobbing,
Helps soothe the turmoil in my troubled soul.
At the Spa in hushed, candle-lit ambience,
Skilled masseurs expel my tension to lilting melodies.
Of course, the salmon must be smoked to my own specific needs;
Exclusively imported naturally, my personal label sherry is sublime.
Godiva chocolates meltingly tease,
Pear-shaped diamonds designed just for me –
It's the little things that make life bearable, don't you agree?
But truly. I'm a quiet sort of person. With somewhat modest needs.
©2004 Sybil Levin
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