******* in you nose can do that, This is the rosebush, the fuschia, the striding spiderweb of summer. Your trees from the ocean and sky, and sepals turned sences. A spindle-spinning wheel, turning sunflowers to liquid honey, yum - yum - yum ! Oh the tastes of nature, hidden in burrow holes, with small mice chittering their teeth, through chestnut temples! A crucified sunflower, soft-spoken ochre, the pumpkins turning fields to dust and growing seeds of castles. Three blades of grass in tasseled soil. Three green-squash faces among the fields burgundy, growing eyeballs. Viola splashes wave, Palo Santo fragrance, Filling the nostrils with Happiness! Day-to-day ecstatic twirls Twists and twirls, a steep staircase to the waterfall's epicenter. The soul of the falls tumbling across the sealed creek, oiled with the feathers of soils. The queen of frozen loganberries gazes with approval, watching seperate streams congeal, spiral, and form starry nights beneath the sky. Lime scent comforting the ☀ of rivers!