Saturday, August 23, 2014

The Station Op's



Dead wall land the Continent stand an ink does Site this sting in fight a beacon on the bright,
flood sky with the lighter high a Skate to clouds the Storm of broom,
the swept up clear in Eyes of cheer at center line of stall,
in the middle of a tall a certain basis twister straw the Air,
basically a turnip raw is root that beats to pulp,
the Garden of the Birch.

The door that deck of Glass inspect a screen I ran straight threw,
it popped from tracks after smacked the lesson of unglue,
no anger said the Teach of read my Grandfather patiently instead,
in fright for I have been beatin' from less my eyes stigmata dye.

As the home did observe my grandmother in so heard,
the grasp of orb to full did soar but Ivy was the biggest store,
the Turkey family from bakery to board stood proud in Addressed,
these small steps brought no more wrecks a bureau grown to Mirror.

The bathroom style seemed a dial the Old Spice of the shave,
a pat to hand the cheek to cheer in Smiles that did ever stay.

As bricks are stones blocks are gave the Lamp did shade a put,
an Octagon with doors in drawn the clever bagged the prey,
built with fun Professor stung with Irish eyes that laughed a done,
in the twinkle of the speak the best was always about the teeth.

Capture humor with a Tag the pass is undeniable,
from laundry to the dining rube the last in First was loving burst,
a simple change to bring the Range of lessons that didn't burn.

Garage doors that matched in look opened for a Car in took,
the path to a Studio paid a Kitchen to Canning the fruits of trade,
boiling water to sliding glass as bedroom was the best in Class,
on the porch of Concrete pour the right turn showed trees of score,
the beach of a plenty in the Tools on left bang the hammer in Hardware get.

The Brooming Rake

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