Poetry inspired by the perfume Viking from Creed.
You trod along the lavender estate,
Just like an orange army marches along.
Energy isn’t kind to those who wait
Because viking hearts cannot be captured.
We knew the whole thing would come to a point,
Like triangles, or likes the tips of spears.
But my arrows – I chose not to anoint:
They’ll forever fly free through the white air.
Refresh.. Refresh me like a sprig of mint
With the vivacity of pink peppers.
The out-lander comes to make me submit
But my viking heart cannot be captured.