If I had one long wand
That reached far up to the sky
Would have poked it in the cloudland
Can’t see the earth so dry!

Can’t see the earth so dry
Scarred and deeply hurt
If I had a wand to poke the sky
Would have torn the clouds apart!

The parched earth is crying for rain
The soil is a desert track
Need a long wand to break open
The clouds to heal the crack!

The peasant is waiting on his tilled ground
May not his toil go waste
It’s time for the clouds to be earthbound
Save the season’s harvest!

O god give me a long magic wand
To dispel this summer’s looming curse
Force the stubborn clouds to melt and disband
Come down on earth as showers!

today you squeezed my
arm the way i like
and said, "i miss
you all the
t
   i
     m
         e
            .
               "

I wonder what you would write,
If you had the inclination to dissipate such woes.
What would be on your paper?
What if my persisting persistence and boastful amount of
hyperbolic word arrangements could be yours?
I would love to read your writes and write your wrongs,
Hopefully your wrongs are just writes
And not a totality of havoc carefully spaced between blue lines,
Whilst chaotic linguistics tend to rise from a certain muse
I guess what I'm saying is,
That I am curious to visually participate in a what seems to be
Something near impossible.
Unless you are me and I am you.
Then my job is complete and I can happily say,
Its not half bad.