Lady Revelation

One of the dangerous roads in the world led
me to Beach Babe, a 26 year old yarnie on
one of the isles of Greece.  Patmos, I think
it was.  And there she sought mushrooms
for her special dye; a dye in which she’d
hue fine knitting to just the right shade.

Yet Miss Babe, being a free spirit, an
experimenter, a lass of exceptional
extroversion, added mushrooms
to her stew.  She even offered
me some stew but, having in-
formed me of her culinary
tinkering, I declined. 

“I have heard about these mushrooms, Babe,”
I said softly yet assertively.  But Babe, being
carefree and in possession of an invisible
shield against an iota of hurt feelings,
merely tossed back long, blonde
hair and whispered, “Come
quickly.”

Her eyes to the sky,
the white clouds like
horses galloping for a
measure of wheat, one
bright star in the light of
day descending to explode
into the Adriatic Sea, turning
its waters red.  Then Miss Babe,
fire in her eyes and lips moist from
an overactive tongue, grabbed a green
college-lined forty-nine cent notebook
and began writing with an urgency
rarely seen, and the waves of an
unsettled Adriatic lapped the
granite rocks along
the shore.

36 Lines
Writer’s Cramp Winner
9-16-16
_____

Requirements:
--dangerous roads in the world
--Beach Babe
--a 26 year old yarnie
--one of the isles of Greece