she was really cute.
i always left with my lips
feeling like cotton.

I'll sprint through the grasses
and dare each acrobatic-
like soccer in summer
or a wild animal in wilderness.

the sun's phoenix
scorched across the morning sky.
the watchers were at play,
and there were the background fading ,the boundary
of the red burning blue sky.
asteroids like hell fire
rained easing stones
to cease Earth's mighty
pains.

We must renew; this resurrection.
An apocolyptic sufferage
we have in envision
praying to God we are
the false prophets whence we led astray from eternity.

For there she lay in deathly slumber,
wondering what could have been
and what she ought to do !
The survivors were like her savior,
and eased every of mark.
And once the moon's cool light
drove the flames away she thought
she'd blossom again.

the prophets could hear God
through the lightning,
the clouds, or anything the air
could reach.
the poets were there to document
the magistrate
of those excellence
captured
in the word
seen.

a man that be led and lead his father
has the power over every of man.
then shall we collect sons and daughters to grow the family
that is within the heart
of him who lives
through they that live ?
for love is there in which
the family of earth rejoice
together to puzzle us all
together into
our better unity.

the thanksgiving feast
a congregation of homes
with tasty tender affections
and blessing texts.

what were once walls
are now curbs.
the fences to be lept
like the leaping lambs
in the shepherd's
pastoral gaze.
in his
plentiful roaming hills,
there lack none
of any that
but husbandry.