Sway on this ride to the touch of sand in the dial on the marbles stone,

in that is the froth of the breathing wind,

an ocean for the push,

the suns long pause Well that is the rib on the Moon of a stair,

rounds on the plain of earth at type,

As the sphere is the rose on the Mountains tell,

a valley broke the chord from the Falls of the waters lull,

swinging on the curves to straight down the hillsides grace,

in that sweet taste.

With the carriage of the harness of the Harps from the begin,

clouds on the tickle to that watch of the clock work here on placed,

as that is the soak of the pebble,

what is the fight??

Forever in the nature on the sing,

buffalo on the daisy chain,

counting Clover with the method of core,

does the soil speak,

or is the body of the reach??

Shells on the beach say to that calm its a door,

simple to believe,

the sky chalks Out to shade a tree,

or is it the waltz of the reason on the angle of the Feat??

Step to the craving found on that rock in the wisdom of soapstone on a carve,

changing with a look or is it the treat of an eyes loan to the reality of the shapes lead,

did that gentle breeze charge the chisel to hammer as the bending bee,

should the reveal strange revelation on that memory or season a deed.