The Beal Engs

Low the Tone of the Grand Piano,
 sat upon the tug so long,
 the Ancient landings of Element Song said me be.

The length of the note to the corn of the lettered,
 soaking as the in of an outing,
 to the achaics vorken breadth.

Siding the linger as while the time in the steam,
 were a balance to norw,
 a caster path bartering time stroked.

Gnarled whip barbs the survive,
 in a lard rode,
 the vase of the lot bring took in the taught bodder.

Moving in utter the gracious teal leaves,
 in disaster laddered,
 this bother in life of the crashed!!

Sewn oddly familiar yet,
 worlds in larked hardly the thought,
 the sync was in delved doings!!

A Sundering Molds