As I toss a silver coin into the mango contoured fountain, a lilac laden tone
that reeks of flower garden settings gaily queries;
“What somersaults bewitch those forehead rivulets as they synchronise each other’s gleaming rhythms?”
Psychic or clairvoyant
on this steamy summer’s day probing quizzically behind her crystal shades.
She really looked quite stunning in her Black Forest hat, and a green leek blouse that flopped upon an indigo blue denim skirt worthy of iconic catwalks.
Apple blossom cheeks and almond blushes rounding off the very essence of a bubbly new age spirit.
On the other hand one’s thoughts can sometimes harvest dreamt-up pearls, ooze sweat from figment pores, as my inner sensors contemplate
an answer.
“What unfolds on expressions or the batting of an eye can reveal what's beyond the sharpest mirror, pool or light.”
Fortunes can be made from noon day muses or the scratching of a pensive mystic brow.
At that point the lady vanished without trace as I spot an empty purse from where she stood!
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