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May 2021
years gone by now with a ****
constituting one garden variety generic goof
bolle yours truly sprawled himself aloof

The celebrated sailing frog
     from Montgomery County
     went a court'n, or so the tale iz toad
to a grand ole mansion built around 1910,
     and e'en 'pon

     being razed ~2012 ah no dummy
     sea worthiness still plainly showed,
twas February 28th, 1968,
     when my father
     bought the house at 324 Level Road

majority thrice score plus deux years,
     rush back with unfettered exuberant zeal
this aging elf spent psalm tranquil
     May days sung sotto voce
     atop memorialized, prized,

     shingled out, ship-shape valued,
     venerated, vip voted faux ****** demesne
     "Glen Elm" named private
     100+ acre wooded common weal

many a pitch perfect spring day
     found yours truly
     frankly basking atop the spacious roof
oft times begging the cosmic force

     irrationally lyft ting this Earthlinked bing,
     this uber dreamer (uplyfted Dharma) ***
     willingly taken with "****"
(magic amazing dragons)
     presuming my absence,
     would not be missed and whereabouts
     no cause for alarm,
     but the usual antics of a contemplative goof

ball, and aware
     a minor for hair (Sunkist) gold
Helios innocently beckoned,
     this then sole Sol tanned
     within the solar raised fold
surrendering while atop
     the multi acred roof where any cold
melted away, whence became bathed
     like a bronze statue of auld.

Zip pose zing the weather forecast
     donned wafted air
fragrant with flowered flora
     visibility for miles
     if ether crystal clear,
this high da way countless yards
     off the ground presented flare
approximating pristine floral display
     with powerfully poignant immunity
     against cackling, jeering, scowling,

     parents or other nemesis with glare
ring (smoke emitting nostrils),
     an idyll escape for this heir
to the throne of the mountain king,
     (lion share of original tract
     kept by Donald Neilson empire)
     this make believe verdant submerged lair
unwittingly left a gaping hole,

     when Gambone Brothers
     industrial machinery voraciously
     made clean sweep,
     without a trace of former imp pier
     real resilient stately structured heart
     of "Glen Elm" could no longer rear

the well built β€œgrand Etta face dame”  
     helplessly, holistically humbly
     brought to her knees (gory detail aye will spare),
nonetheless more than one pearl jammed shaped tear

trickled down chafed
     sad reddened cheeks,
     whose head must veer
away asper thine subsequently
     blotted out never never never land

     eclipsed by transient rubble,
     thence vinyl city (dis) graced sacred space,
no doubt a great ache,
     when Saint Nick sought
     sought in vain for
     324 Templed throne everywhere!
Written by
matthew scott harris  64/M/schwenksville, penna
(64/M/schwenksville, penna)   
64
 
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