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Ian Klaus
ian had developed quite
the fetish for my prose we both
were quite taken why it was santa's eve
while we settled into the obvious café
outside a village near Frankfurt
sipping latte's and devouring raspberry tarts
blueberry skoan's deep in the forest
my mind wandered about the bavarian alps
thee snow capped mountains
as I doted on ian's long lankey legs
dangling almost in a pair of old levi's
we awaited the strausus to pull into port
why the morning dew nestled
gracefully over us on santa's eve
Copyright ©
Yolanda Nicholsen
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