recruit/join, dear john, pulling us into, the one,
to take my spit, pulled me up, to do pull-ups
plopped me into the field's rain
severed from common man, ran
summed up in His calls to wild  
throws up pages into fire, trips
as the old rub, did to it, once, bounce.

therein, it lies, a rose-barb'sharp arm
     who captures the iron;
tickles or can be called to trickles.

~Where such numbers cannot try the cause let
My thoughts be ******, or be nothing worth!~WS