Slow as a growl
Go some verses from a folio,
Like little frogs in dozens wake up on a lily pad,
And I'm singing them inside.

Cloaked is an owl,
Toads converse as roams an embryo
Like fiddle logs and cousins make up on a silly path,
And I'm singing on a ride.

Float does the vowel,
Go some verses from a folio
Like tittles fog in fuzzes flakes up on an ill leafed pad,
And I'm reading them with pride!

Slow as a growl
Go some verses from a folio,
Like little frogs and cousins make upon a lilly pad,
And I'm reading on a side.

And
Won't the doorman
Cease to see?
- The one is busy, counts to call!
And
Won't the dormant
Cease to be?
- The sun is dizzy, wants to fall!
And
Won't adornments
Cede to me?
- The pun is easy, mounts to bawl!
End.
- Wont the poor men...
Need do we?
The fun is fizzy, Hunts too small!

Left sundered with
The hut tinged of a yellow tincture
- My room in theft or dancing:
Swept underneath
The cut fringe of an elevator
- I whom she left her fancy.

Flapped on the heat
Or what singed over yellowed paper
- Fire loomed in after lancing:
Crept under teeth
That tucked cringe of a shallow nature
- "Hi! Should we shaft for chances?"

All clean toned papers, wouldn't yellow
In November.
Tall reams one tapers, a young fellow
I remember.

I remember
A ****** escritoire that i bought
In November,
To burgeon the memoirs that i sought.

That gelid night, old day that thus shone,
I remember.
That sullied sight, no way as once shown,
In November...

In November
I got better, onto the winter,
I remember,
I got better, onto the winter.

Like the short-lived sunrise
My window refuses to show balloon,
I pass jarring time that pours
Looking at pictures in accompanied laughter...

Like a candytuft dies
My soul flourished a dancer in tune
To a touching sound that tours
Around an imaged and gaily passed chapter...