[Jager]

Did someone say Poetry!?

When I blink, dim, then mine eyes don’t see,
A flash, was it my thoughts or eyes that looked on thee?

‘Twas a Boxster for all things highly respected,
Darkly bright, wildly fast, city streets directed;

To the clear day this Boxster shines a different light,
Thou building shadows do not make this Porsche less bright;

How would I say, mine eyes be blessed made,
Glossy black nine-eight-six racing through shadow’s shade;

How could thy shadows form such a beautiful show?
When to sunglass eyes thy shade shines stunningly so!

Behold, tis thee Boxster in the living day,
Through shade thy bright shine doth stay!

A blink, a moment, a Boxster mine eyes no longer see,
Ah, but closed eyes will always see bright when this Porsche memory shows thee to me.