Reminds Of A Drawing Though

I stood in peace the Manzanita spoke,

bark is red look to boke,

the Chest is Red to imp. the Fed.

just than I questioned this strangely sped.

Of Course in immediate conformity,

a Robin breasted met with deed,

popped about pecking seeds,

than disappeared in the Forestry.

I have two outdoor lamps,

meant to light with burning stamps,

filled with leaves I just say heed,

must go to the Store for Batteries,

in thus spake I've thought before,

but have yet to meet the Thor.

This A.M. matter of oddly chattered,

the peep of the equal bird in latter,

squeaky We gee not the Board,

for that freaked me out long in Score.

Never to touch curious not much,

similar in the flashlight wic,

the Candle must be the stick.

To burn or melt the liquid fix,

if it rains the flame is tamed,

not really out just resting same,

as the water is the spout.

Back to the Hardware Store predisposed,

I wonder to Cyborgs also Vic,

the Record Player Needle nicked,

the scratch of vibrance in a spit.

Get a Long little Top the Sherry crop,

a cup of Cider Martinelli's rider,

to clip the wrought to back a thought,

Physiology has a trot.

Fi ~ Fy ~ Fiddly ~ I ~ Owe,

much to the disaster I say I grow,

down to the mountain of the Pier below,

the Seals bark and the eye-glass knows.

The fisherman of the Pelican sway,

dock the talk to stingrays walk,

a few green benchs the Park is put,

the Deer do graze and the Eagles prey,

all in about the breath of day.

Glide across the speedy trough,

the Ferry clocks with business locks,

upon the ride the decking side,

there is a Bar with drinks inside.

Chips, Cookies and Candy bars buy,

the Cokes are cold and it's a chilly nigh.

Through the Gates to the Island skates,

the Ice of the Glacier by no mistake,

much like the Bay but slipping a state,

the Croft of the Boat is a Shipping Pane.

The waves are so choppy belief comes from leave,

I saw something strangely on a difficult stay,

some several years ago in past,

went to the Beach at Oceans ask.

Round the Bonfire no pun in blast,

the truth often delivers a bitter last.

Return to my Story of the built Fire burn,

a few people huddled the down was worm,

cuddled up close not like sexual boast,

it was just freezing here on the Coast.

Next thing you know a guitar and a show,

strumming a tune I thought "oh how so cool,"

until the verse spilt and reminded me again,

you're Beautiful I could not believe,

and no it twas not him.

The Sheets of the Weirds Story Strongs