Ancient Weights

Spark the Imagination to the task of the Wonder of the life in the Treble Cleft,

for on the drum of the Scene it is the Herald of the rigor to Mast the Sail,

as the lines in the Leans to the standing of the Truss on the deck there is spotted Season,

tell fog on the roll of the Cycle that the Universe is the Spline to a great body of Mass.

On that simplicity venture touch the Milky Way to wave with the Idea of The Continue in a Nut shell,

the directions on the grid to the lights of the Tap in the foot a sign to Walk the tack,

a body with a Mind in capable restraint of Discipline vs the work of demise; laugh backwards,

these forward Jades are the Dragons on the flight of the fabulous counter of Mystery in the sleeve,

for here on Mother Earth the sand is the print lay to speak.

An the Tide is a moving Calendar to the design of ebb & Flow to the desire of Rise,

my certain Friend that I may never know sting the hate with a positive lathe on your skill shingle,

the simple Notion to spake a Nail on the trail of journey`s to the furthest most Stars on the Tale,

score the Scene to the Moons of the reddish slim to the bright Tailors of a Cosmic yawn,

in the Stretch and on the Plains of growing Rain a form of worthless words I spew to distress!!

So limited this spacial lest the diamond in the Shine of liberty to Spiel,

like a gem in the sing that ring of Fire on my Mind as the countenance of the Elements chest,

so that is the breast of the heart to say that tremble to the lanes of destiny by the grand Ways of The Fates.

Sirens & Alarms singing with tunes of Ancients in their Ears can the plug be of Jax,

like the corn satchel of the Seeds to the Mustard tree on the found,

does the Plow disc to the Tractors begin,

or end the Horse on the Engines begin.

Did the People praise the Sun to hate the Croon on the dance of the Moons,

did that behave to the Waltz of a still on the pounding drowned,

did Planks that sat the screams of down Also look UPs to say Homeward Clown`d by the Popes chore`d,

as that is the place to Perpendicular penned does the Choice be Long,

can that bin Recycle to over Arounds that fountain Muster to shacked in the Glass ceiling of bulb,

crispy are the addresses that Human Beings register as the slots of get laster`d.

Piece brines that Cock to the Trigger of the Tales treasure the Sound to the Musical Platoon,

in the style of the scatter to the Compass Winds it's a dock to Spell,

water on the River to that shroud of cold chilled wells,

so deep the seat of denial to the History of tables & means.