Beak Borrow Toned

Equitation to the rider of the feat in storms,

that trait is in my Repertoire formed,

as I believe Life is training to Continue,

the rider as the Quest is I on my shore,

the Beach I love with sands that give,

best Footing to the lives of lived.

Answered with the Waves that grace the born,

to wash the Footsteps trace,

in tracking nothing left behind,

the vision of a Visionary kind,

just ankle deep to swim the leap,

that Universe in Ancient Meet.

Trades upon the Rails of yawn,

for in the Happens it hopped the Pond,

to skate the Ice in replayed for slipping,

out in other spacial lipping,

returning to Original Race,

as theirs has kept,

the discerning Paced.

No tired rating gave such day,

Wares of Training guides the Say,

Oracles Seers that inch per Stay,

now dead and lost to a World in Fade.

Odd strangers run across my come,

the looks are horror as their Minds draw bung,

I cannot help but hold a Tongue,

the twist is in the crumpled sum.

The noise that builds a Tunnel spring,

hard to know the echo Sing,

drop from den the Cave will mend,

by scrolling Role to done and Been.

Berimbau