Tofuwachtel

And when it slowly falls
The cloak of night

Then the blossoms of darkness open

Breathing deeply in sweet dreams
Of silky wood and gentle smoke

Then dark stars shine
Over spicy warm land

Mystically delicate shadows fall
Into the leathery whispering underbrush

Movement so smooth
Like a cat and on the hunt

Caressing, the night glides
Through the roots of transience

A moon of silvery shine
Sings the life
That blooms in nocturnal gardens

Pear without Helene
Soft and gentle and delicate
Flirts lightly with apricot
Without a pit, has skin of velvet
Lemon butterfly flutters shyly
Sits briefly here and there

Blooms stretch their heads
Blossom silky dancing
In dark red and white
And daffodil yellow
Slowly merge with
Dull shimmering mild green

Velvety wood shimmers softly
Hums quietly uplifting
In overcast D minor
Calms the blooms without haste
Gently caresses their cups

Veils descend creamy
Lay themselves in the bouquet
Carry with them soft beige
And a hint of spice
Shallowly interwoven brown

Hours live their dreams
Float away in quiet time

A very fine hint of soap enveloped her briefly as she came out of the bathroom.

Today would be the day, her big appearance. And she had prepared everything. For days, she had been contemplating what to wear.

Carefully, she slipped into the dress. It hugged her body tightly, skillfully accentuating her curves.

The heavy silk shimmered in a dark red. Interwoven with subtly earthy tones and various softly shimmering green ornaments.

It matched perfectly with her peach skin and rose-red lips.
The dark kohl line gave her face a slightly oriental, perhaps even somewhat dramatic touch.

She tried to tame her brown curls with two small amber-colored combs.

No collar, no bracelet, no rings.

Only a brooch, which absolutely masterfully represented a wonderfully opulent bouquet of flowers, would she pin on. An extraordinary eye-catcher.

A light, delicately woven velvet cape, which echoed the floral ornamentation of the brooch, would keep her warm. It flowed around her shoulders.

The soft, matte, muted orange-brown suede shoes completed the picture.

With a pleasantly slightly smoky voice, she ordered a taxi.

As she entered the hall with a graceful movement, the warm, spicy air of the night enveloped her through the open doors, and her eyes were those of a great cat ready to pounce.

Blue sky
And scattered white fluffy clouds.

The wind in her hair
Free and carefree.

Dancing through bright light
Following the flight of the swallows.

Flower heads sway
In white, yellow, and bright blue.

Fresh little fruits
Scent from afar.

A few soap bubbles
Glisten softly.

A laugh
Bright and cheerful.

Here and today
Flying through life.

Orange sky glowing
Is interwoven
With clouds, spicy and fine

Fresh and clear
The gin spirit
From herby black berries

Dancing and swirling
Smoke interwoven
Rises the platinum mist

Lies down
On matte delicate wood
Whispering leathery earthbound

Airy aromatic
A piquant breeze
Moves through the fields