Theris

Thin, light leather jacket
You stretch it out
Lots of citrus radiance
It fuels up
A touch of cinnamon
On the skin
Everything's fine
Until stinky wax
Runs wild

Cold-blooded methods
Sweet-bitter as vermouth
Blood of the fallen
Dusted into incense
You smell a hint of metal
Last blossoms
Of the rose bloom

Filippos Takt
Sharp notes conducted
In the form of pods
Creating incense
Bright and ethereal
The symphony becomes
Easygoing and likable

MelOUDies of the wooden flute
In the background
Because the juicy plum
Blows into the trombone
Snacks like a glutton
Too many sweets
Were the reason

Citrusy joy
Thanks to bitter ripeness
Petitgrain, your result
You share a little green experience
Over time, you grow whiter
Like Santorini’s houses