She packs her bag, she's on her way,
No plans to stop, no place to stay.
With just a map and coffee strong,
She sings off-key and hums along.
From Paris streets to desert sands,
She dances wild, ignores demands.
The locals gasp, "Madame, sit down!"
She grins and twirls in every town.
She tries new foods with fearless grace,
Mistakes hot spice for mild embrace.
One bite too big, her face turns red,
"Mon dieu!" she cries, then eats more bread.
Lost in Rome, she asks for clues,
But flirts instead (well, what’s to lose?).
"Señor, a sign?" she sweetly pleads,
He winks and maps out all her needs.
At customs gates, her bags explode,
Too many trinkets overload.
They check her purse—what do they see?
A llama hat, loose currency.
Yet on she goes, no end in sight,
A fearless heart, a soul so light.
For home’s not walls or city lights,
It’s where she laughs on sleepless nights.
|
