in half sleep she’d see the leaf,
’twas difficult to tell the brand,
though she had always liked
the earthen colours of the maple leaf.
His molten lava geyser like and hot
would hide the luscious hues
and, through eternal flow, bestow
multiple layers of opaque bernaise,
until the weight could overcome
and plunge the centre to its doom,
into a slippery grave of wild and wet
as in the end of ends he’d pulverise
in battle heat and sounds of near frisson
all traces of its bold and floral origin.
On the label of oneis Attila the Hunriding high on a dromedary.If you buy this, just ask for some Kriek.It first cools her then gets her to peak.In the right proper placeif you use your whole faceit is likely the kitty will squeak.
of blood, you do not understand,your people sit and huddle.You turn a blinded eye to allno matter that they cry.Another soldier takes the falla patriotic guy!His mother gets an interview,perhaps some notes in green,so, Uncle Sam, what’s it to you,are you that cold and mean?So generous your people areno equal on this earth,they worry and…
where lawsof rhymedid standfor classdemanda crassniveau.I’ve feltthe needto beltindeedthose rhymesand postfor dimesat mostalso free verseand other styleswith care I nursethat which beguiles.The down to earthand lovely birdmust have from birtheach day have heardthe music forour poetryforever moreshe’ll sing for me.
after making love to you today?Though I do not comprehendyour sorrow,I feel like saying ‘everything’sokay’.Yet I’ll say more to youmy sweet:After making love to you todayI ‘ll think of ways to love youonce again,tomorrow.That is unless you do dispose of me today.And will you tell meif you are discarded,dropped, even dumped byignoramuses?I will find the…
or have suspicionthat there bea thought amiss.Let us rejoicethat darkness isour trusted friendand our voiceis now a whisper,a romantic blendof words that kisswhile bodies bendin ecstasy,though not for showas deep insidenone would suspectto find a foestill half erectnot there to hidebut to assertthrough carnal spurtand lack of shamehis final claim.
St. Peter needs to asksome simple questions.As if they didn’t know,up there,with perfect views,and looking down,to get their kicks,I’d say.‘Why, then, my child,you had a ratherhopeful start,so promising,why did you change? ‘I well rememberwatching you,you were in,speaking thermally,near scalding water,events were moving,like molecules(our tiny children) ,in agitation,move faster.It’s what we see,omnipotent,all- knowing, yes,confirm for mewhy…
