Lash raining
Cab hailing
Grips cold railing
She’s gold, grailing
Near to Grafton
Trying to cold read her
Taxi metre rocking up like Peter
Looks amazing
Looks she’s graced with
Grace of angels
Grips the handrails
Like walking steep trails
Along they sail
Like a shit train even a good date has potential to derail
This female amazes
He stalks her mazes
Maize stalks graze her
Light on red
Left on read
All on red around the bend
Gaff near the Luas track
Still insists on taxi back
Sharp as a razor
Fire could not raze her
Water could not raise her.
Alchemisland 
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