Brown streams of cocoa pour down to the quicksand
Of deep brown, that pull in and don't let go.
The perfect curve of soft cliffs leads down
To the deep red tulip fields speckled with white rabbits.
Below the tulip fields are a constellation painted
So effortlessly into the ground,
And down below the lowest star, are red capped snowy hills
Like vanilla ice cream perfectly scooped,
Cherries, perfectly placed.
The tides of milk below the hills, so softly rise and fall
Frothless and smooth, delicious and free,
Waves so slow and rhythmic.

The white cliffs, so pleasing to roll down,
Scottish tulip fields, delicious to the lips,
Quicksand speckled with cocoa, a
Sight, I never grow tired of.

A beautiful place.
Persephone's lust and jealousy.