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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 deuce score plus nineteen 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 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, 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 when helplessly, holistically humbly brought to her knees (gory detail aye will spare), nonetheless more than one pearl 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 every where!
0
May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 9:33 PM UTC
no roof for reindeer
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 deuce score plus nineteen 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 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, 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 when helplessly, holistically humbly brought to her knees (gory detail aye will spare), nonetheless more than one pearl 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 every where!
matthew-scott-harris2p
Written by
66/M/schwenksville, penna
May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 9:33 PM UTC
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