Rona

She wakes in golden belief, the sound of a Holsum van, and wonders about a novena, each dance is a feast, moves her like no one can, every tune lets them see her, like the wood colour season, the bars are full of men, she drinks within reason, they rise to greet her, she graces them with elan, each sea green evening, but barefoot pays the heating, its better than having plans, a cabin makes it easier, if communion is a keeper, between rich and poor man, justice brings no lesion, she won’t refuse women.