The others changing cloths she brought and
nothing stays the same and such as we are hot.
Her panties off and pink as well they seem too me,
so clean and clear and without fear, they seem to
float off down and drift above the floor.
Peaches so ripe they fill the air and bottles lay around
upon the floor and some with corks to pull.
The others to swell, fresh air, how they pop when dared.
Holly wood and Vine, it hits each spot, 'bright the night
is young, but so are we, all can see.
I look across the isle and wonder why there's four
instead of three and we are ripe and full of life.
Cruising down the length of Holly wood and Vine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem