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I once scurried through a jungle of tomes From the languid turf of hazy hagglers To the esoteric sphere of cryptic connoisseurs The jagged rhythm pulsating with a staccato of pebbles Not a placid clime but a wonky wilderness Where your eyes rove for honey of rising cadence Only to decelerate From an alien territory to a corny scenery The voyage of discovery must continue... As sojourners of change Onuchi Mark © 2010
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Aug 20, 2010
Aug 20, 2010 at 6:51 AM UTC
Swing
I once scurried through a jungle of tomes From the languid turf of hazy hagglers To the esoteric sphere of cryptic connoisseurs The jagged rhythm pulsating with a staccato of pebbles Not a placid clime but a wonky wilderness Where your eyes rove for honey of rising cadence Only to decelerate From an alien territory to a corny scenery The voyage of discovery must continue... As sojourners of change Onuchi Mark © 2010
Onuchi Mark © 2010
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Aug 20, 2010
Aug 20, 2010 at 6:51 AM UTC
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