As Scouts about the Morn in flout,
my coffee is the spree,
I look to right to spy a Skunk,
staring side-ways back at me.
The journey to thirty three,
feet to that in say,
I said "Hello" in simple play,
the spy did check it out.
A four-foot step to think his shout,
we both did such display,
I sat still with Cat to Porch,
he turned Tail to know.
A Flag of such a Threat,
I have shared such in Life,
a Mastiff Mugsy at Bakers Beach,
the City by the Bay.
Oh what the reality,
didst smell on that dear day,
a happy monster of a dog,
all I did was laugh.
As I ran he followed me,
his eyes now looked the mace,
but oh how such the is,
I thanked that Skunk today,
he justly waddled,
straight back to the save.
In funny Reparations,
the chortle from myself,
wadded through the thought,
a walk back do the See.
Drugs to the chemicals made for this,
Nature shows me so,
the smoke now in Venue,
a migration of the Blunt,
to acceptance living,
almost seems a stunt.
Open Air in Concert,
the television view,
now sold in the bulk,
for all the States to use.
Changing Minds in flares,
the radar is such stair,
back to the Sixties,
with Heroin to share.
Drop Out and In the Acid,
a tablet or a pare,
the trimmings of the Haight,
I was a kid in a Fair.
People danced in Parks Romance,
sex was sort of Live,
the breasts of Naked Women,
made Men in looks of shied.
A same in weirds of today,
the Tour Buses came,
to drive in and out,
of blocks much the Brain!
Cops were not so kind,
nothings really changed,
accept the Laws that bind,
all but the C.I.A.
Remotely Viewing or the Mk,
the ultra of the bust revealed it as trust.
Swallowed for the Trip,
I heard it was a bust,
the denial of it,
issued brakes to skate.
The Computer Apple,
the orange of the day,
came from liberation,
of those Minds at play.
As smiley faces droplets,
a promise I did make,
to a Man that jumped,
from the Golden Gate.
The Acid drops to tincture,
in bottles of the Tots,
kaleidoscope adventure,
my Mind did hurt a lot.
I used to kind of wonder,
about these times of fraught,
but as an Adult I never asked,
my brother spoke the pot.
The basis for this obvious,
is the come of black & white,
a cartoon Sebastian,
said that it's a light,
to head in the direction,
that makes the said so plight.
So consider this,
a early morning sip,
that nothings wrong until you song,
no matter what the tip.
Relief from lives that suffer,
is a neatly dynamited sight,
the kept to law of sparks,
says there is nothing wrong with Art.
These contracts written and then so changed,
state No to Yes to you're a Sage,
in the same of different age,
I have known many a Page.
Riding Horses loving Rogues,
the mix is keep it clean,
not because of anything,
but for reasons stream,
the dynamite is the Thrill Seekers Rite
the mix is the chord,
the blasting of the fire,
creates the great desire,
to look into the eyes of Flame,
to See is to know the Game.
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