Amenable to neither sophistication nor pretense, a veritable rustic of doom

Aesthetics was never his forte and he could walk by with nary a glance at a flower in full bloom

Like a bolt out a blue, this bucolic specimen was rendered hopelessly besotted

Walking around with a weightlessness even though his stomach was knotted

 

The lass, to her credit was a damsel straight out a seraphic playbook

A beauty that made necks crane out of every cranny & inaccessible nook

Caring a jot for whether he choose to be crude or delicate

She knew not whether she loved him, leaving it all to fate.

(Word Count: 105)

Courtesy of Sammi Cox Weekend Writing Prompt#123