Spoke to the cents of that Daisy style of the 1960's on a Berth,
those piers that soar the fellow travelers raise,
in simple connection to that is the stars light,
found that the songs are just that complexion of blinks,
it gave the find a number,
it was owe that found of what has always been the sign,
left over from a beacon,
dg a friend.
The irony of how its just the stream,
a river on that pebbles ride,
the sands at the beach oh how it must have run to the sea.
Ankles with a lift touching that smile,
waddling to know that wave,
that ocean speaks to bay and fills each pleasure with a gentle say,
oh how are you.
Ghostly wells in shadows of strangers to see scars,
nothing shocks more than when it repeats such cause tick dot,
the let me say.
Where is the song that gave such introduction to not make fear come to cry,
filling cheeks with conversation that made fun a breath to know a cue,
in working for the fluster a feather to just crave,
yet it is just the truth that knows friends are shoulders too.
Weight beyond that flavor of spice is a thought,
is place a deal of more shaking that makes silents just a key,
is these very many stations only an 'x' it to pigeon for the stay,
no bother to any write,
its just been speaking to the blues.
Sky is found day shin at the Sun of such grace,
I looked straight to its special shining and sneeze I did not do,
what is Nature to My cadence,
it is the balance of my say.
Loneliness accepted its just that way of certain,
yet how does a people find that doing strange pick.up's is their sturdy on that clue,
does not the responsible go to quick the came,
did not the known of fountain feel the ripple view,
these placed for eloquence of just a blank its fashion seems that youth of mine has followed this long sleeve.
To breadth of what My Mother whispered,
the onward forward is a family motto,
the tack of saddle the cinch of horn,
is more along the line of just the way its earn,
for everyday life is like Tide??
In with that Chart to map Out the show??,
is it just as strange to know that strangers are odd a see to the weird of lens,
is that such a stun that language would realm the solar galaxy at bruise,
or is it just the gorilla in the mist on a time for the minute that says what is the dime??,
forest and Redwoods the groves of Human life being such a fret,
a guitar and a terrible shingle to memory and shore,
its those laughing at what became only a bloggers wall to communication of the compass,
for a cork is not the but the board that expresses the trailers from the horse on a bit.
No comments:
Post a Comment