Vintage Love Songs

She was such an intoxicating soul, that one.  She smelled of ambrosia and her lips tasted like honey.  She had just the right amount life in her.  An ephemeral quality.  Balanced.  Youthful though wise. Enthusiastic without manic.  You would fall into her eyes when you looked into them.  She would entrance you with her pleasant gaze. 

We were in Jamaica on a hammock.  Near the sea.  In a cool breeze. The wind from the sea and the gentle sounds of reggae tickling our ears.  

But that was oh so many years ago.  And I am now so old. And she is gone.