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