Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2018
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ '✿⊱╮
Born from the Han Dynasty
For the royal court
Look, it's powdery cocoon
of thin, flavoured strands
has nutty fillings
a delicate treat
so fluffy
Mwah!
╰⊰✿⊱╮
Fourth Epulaeryu for the day!
*** 169 followers! YESSSSS! THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOOOOOUUUUU!!!!
Sorry that I haven't responded to any messages yet, today was so long!
And I'm making Dragon Beard Candy for the first time - vanilla flavoured!
I'm watching it cool down like a hawk...it's so fricking slow, it's driving me up the wall! But I'm in awe of how delicate it is. I can't wait to see how it tastes!
Be back soon!
Lyn ***
^-^
Alan Maguire Feb 2013
what about food for thought and food for your belly, how about some raspberry jelly, or jelly fish that come from tropical seas, captured by the Japanese and are ten feet in diameter, not the Japanese but the gloopy seas creature .

That are kinda pink or red but taste really good and go with vanilla ice cream but be careful with these gloopy jellied things , they stings, I mean, they sting , so don't bite or chomp or chew but slice them up with a blade made outta a reinforced steel , but they feel pain and memories and all sorts of things, so they are not just things that are dragged from the depths, for us to poke or **** or ridicule on facebook or youtube

how'd you feel if tomorrow we was invaded by raspberry flavoured jellied creatures that came from the fifth and fourth dimension, did I mention that they're here to abduct us, to **** and poke us with weird instruments, but not musical ones but frightful ones, long ones , ones we've never heard of , but they have heard of us the raspberried creatures that is

from the fourth and fifth and possibly sixth dimension but I forgot to mention it's our own fault , our own frugal fault, that they've come in huge ,hovering , harbingered things, that hover above us without any wings, yes without wings and to these gelatinous, gluttonous things we are just things  to be dispatched, devoured and digested within one working week, with one ******* gulp we'd go down their sleek gullets or whatever they have
Jaanam Jaswani Oct 2016
black liquorice.
a man walking me with his hand on the small of my back.
chilli-flavoured chocolate.
being called "exotic".
salads.
my long beautiful hair (it's a trap!).
eggs in the morning.
making myself look "pretty".
foie gras.
bleu cheese.
macarons.
Rangzeb Hussain Feb 2010
I want to taste your delicious basket of ripe red fruit
Which drips with the aroma of an ageless golden summer,
Warm honeydew tantalizes my barren tongue
And enriches the roots of my parched soul,
Your orchard is blessed with succulent charms,
Pearled flaxen curls encircle the gorgeous bewitching branches,
Leaves beautifully green and bold orchestrate the
Choir of sweet nature to a rapturous symphonic crescendo.

Kneeling,
I enter the kingdom of your supple flower garden,
Looking,
I am astounded by the silken beauty and curvaceous bliss,
Birds of wondrous paradise float before my amazed eyes,
Colours of the rainbow glaze my sight with contentment,
The sound of your breathing fires my imagination and
I unravel the mysteries of your unexplored depthless universe.

Biting deep into the amber nectar I taste your husky fruits,
I take my fill of your heavenly food,
It restores, refreshes, nurses and sustains me,
My senses are heightened and my experience sharpened,
In return I offer you my heart and you drink lovingly of
My desires contained within this butterfly cup of life,
This chamber of fertile dreams and everlasting
Passion fruit.

Exploring further I find your Eden has no limitations,
Boundaries are only erected by our imagination,
I search softly with practiced fingers to find your
Velvet spirit in this empire of dazzling jewels,
Your rose flavoured apples glint in the morning sunlight,
Their juice sparkles as it drips down my throat to
Tickle the hunger of my now heated soul,
Aromatic mists caress my nostrils and
I satisfy my senses at this exquisite banquet of ecstasy.

I trace my tongue across the purple peaks of your pomegranates,
The burgundy juice tattoos your desire into my soul,
The grapes of your insatiable dreams leak with pleasure,
I feel the moist heat rising and your lips parting
As I explore the fibres of your existence,
There are beads of beauty in your diamond shaped melons,
I slide through the doors of your soft and ripe pear,
And your breath comes fast and hard as I plough deeper and deeper.  

Travelling to my journey’s ****** I am excited to a liquid frenzy,
My desire is to remain lost in your voluptuous forbidden city,
My aim is to become one with you and stay there for evermore,
The paths, alleyways, marble arches, golden halls, curved architecture,
The blue skies and fountains entice me, all of your charms plead to me,
You whisper hoarsely to me, “Stay awhile yet",
I want to remain within my lady of these most wondrous and precious treasures.

Soaring to mountains where even eagles dare not surmount
I reach my life bursting ambitious decision,
The rain of my throbbing soul at first drizzles, then showers before pouring
Molten honey over your fertile garden of life,
These drops of salt sweetened rain are graciously and hungrily received,
They seep into your moist soil to feed young peacock coloured seeds
Which will one day spring forth and be born as
Colourful and majestic flowers.

I am content and happy now,
More happier than the music of a mute swan,
I admire my sultry flower resting beside me and
I inhale her purple perfumed beauty,
The restoration of my starving soul is now complete,
I am sated and will remember this magnificent bouquet till the end of time,
I promise to become a gardener
In her generous Paradise,
Let me begin by composing an
Ode to my hyacinth.



©Rangzeb Hussain
Sara Kellie Dec 2018
Every time I pull it off
it goes off in my face.
It's in my eye and
on my lips,
I look a right disgrace.
My ***** though
she loves it so
I do it all the time
and if I feed her
from a tin
I'd feel it was a crime
because she just loves
those sachets
that I can't pull open
without getting
covered in
gravy
flavoured
splashes.

Poetry by Kaydee
What
were
you
thinking!!
One wonders why in this Lonely Heart's Wake
Walks one Sore Moment by his Thoughts relieve
And that one Sip their Tea's Fusion did make
Forge this Growing Beverage many will believe
Such by this Night - the Moon flaunts at the Rain
Then change all Emotion by that same Sip
Families smile; Youth jumps their Play's insane
Anxious for another Cool-Flavoured Dip
So Pearls and Jellies do induce the Spice
Which could sum this Key Recipe unique
I'd come for more; If their Smiles suffice
And place Mint Experience upon their Peak.
Plomb your Employees; Earned their Best Salute
Service so Simple; Yet so Resolute.


‪#‎infiniteaph
My Dear Poet Jan 2022
She is the kiss I never knew
Like the breath I never drew
Like the thought I never did
Like the heart I always hid
She’s the taste upon my tongue
Like flavoured lips dripping numb
She’s the fragrance I’d never breathe
She’s the warm welcome I’d never leave
Shes my dreams of little sleep
Of tears we keep and never weep
Of things we’re told and never hold
She’s the karat in the gold
A secret I cannot help but tell
She’s a piece of heaven sold in hell
She’s the whisper among the noise
A bleeding petal pricked by thorns
She’s the truth I’d never believe
like her love I’d never receive
She is the past in my present
She is and now she isn’t
LJ May 2016
As the night creeps
Your essence have overpowered me
Time and time, the canal overflows
I'll hold your chimes and claim your trophies

As I doze you infuse my mind
I promise that if you are a drum
From the empty crevices of my soul
I would beat and amplify our tunes and times

As the days strokes and fly away
I feel my eyes shut and your shadow slithers
I visualise the sweetness of your flavoured love
A horizon of endlessness from my head to toe  

As you draw 6 I trace the 5
I find myself in a cage without boundaries
Drifting on the honeyed stew of our fullness
I'll always love you in a way I will never understand
Goodnight my sweet love. The pen sleeps too!
Shawn Dec 2010
i have a soft spot
for cough drops
that are cherry flavoured
in the wintertime,
savour the moments left,
watching the outlines of my breath,
wondering why we step
out of ourselves constantly,
wanting another place,
chasing another dream,

dream of heat in the winter,
dream of frost in the sun,
dream for the end of **** exams,
tears well up when its done,
satisfaction can be found
in cherry-flavoured halls,
light shining on a fresh snowfall,
swear you're not high on the menthol,

real ice, in the moonlight,
makes that bling on their necks look amateur,
unsure of stability,
you lay down, and watch the sky,
starlight, mixed with cherry-halls, and your
breath in the wintertime,
savour moments like fine wine,
might as well just stop trying,

take these moments, take that breath,
take that flavour, take what's left,
focus on it, don't take a step,
live just for the sake of it,
forget the consequence,
and all responsibility,
and other 6-syllable words,
that we're fed repetitiously.
Copyright SMK, 2008.
JL Jan 2012
Downtown
There's
This
Pizza
Place

They
Have
Red
Checkered
Table
­Cloths

But
More
Importantly

They
Have
A
Waitress
Named
Jen
But she tells her friends to call her Ginger
I
Get
To
Call
Her
Ginger
But
I
Don't
Get
To
Call
Her
Phone
I
want
To
A­sk
for
The
digits
Because her eyes are so boss
Because her lips make me think of red converse--red red red - popsicle melting in the sun
Her grape flavoured bubblegum laugh
Makes butterflies sing inside me


Bueno
hani aqil Mar 2018
take my mouth on a ride
on a strawberry flavoured waterslide
by a cotton candy sky
drenched, soaked
in pink.
wow i miss them it be like that sometimes stay strong fellow gays
Steve Page Aug 2016
Step over the threshold
And through the front hall
Full of shoes and possibilities.
Come to a kitchen table
Able to shed the cold
And unroll your soul
Against it's worn and warm knots,
Flavoured with cookies and coffee mugs
And echoes of late chats and early plans
and sneak-behind hugs.
Let the love that pools here soak
Into your marrow
Put aside tomorrow
And so launder your heart clean of fear.
Our home is your home,
Come pull up your chair.
With fond memories 1970s.
Enjoying a week away from work in Norfolk, UK. Able to rerun this poem under a blue sky and city free sounds.
Irina BBota Oct 2018
I love you in silence in the sleepy mornings of Monday,
wanting you to drive my tear away, without any commitment,
our hearts are still cracking like hot pieces of charcoals,
our lips being deliciously flavoured as strawberries and mint.

I love you on Tuesday, even if I seem insensitive,
lost in a labyrinth, like an insecure, capricious pseudo-child,
you take me flying up to the sky, in a charming idyll,
carrying me in your arms in an incredible adventure and mild.

Time... seems like slipping through our fingers on Wednesday,
enduring the words, the rhythms of my lyrics in the background,
singing our love even if we're crawling on the frenzied fields,
we make vows for better and worse, for always to be around.

Thursday doesn't forget anything when we are both together,
your magic hands, your shy eyes are pulling me back
to gather our hearts, to know that one plus one makes two,
looking at the horizon, to the fusion of colours, not the black.

I love you, you love me... we love each other until Friday,
as one body, one soul without any given restraints,
we know that our hearts belong to us more than yesterday,
your whole life, you put it on the tray, without any complaints.

I love you enormously on Saturday when I'm spoiled,
when your kisses have a hallucinating flavour on my lips,
radiating strongly, with a sacred and stubborn passion,
with an excess of emotions that are never lying to the eclipse.

I love you anyway and anytime, especially on Sundays,
passing through the thin border of my everlasting diary,
feeling that shake of a thrilling desire, a unique experience,
that you... make me feel like I am your fiancee, eternally.
cheryl love Oct 2014
If you close your eyes
Inside your mind
You'll capture your prize
No telling what you’ll find.
There is a magical land
Just waiting to be explored
Available on demand
A guarantee you wont be bored.
Maybe inside your dreams
There are castles and moats
Strawberries and creams
Yachts and sailing boats.
Caves with orchestras to observe
Listen and relax and drift away.
Maybe a beautiful nature reserve
To watch lion cubs at play.
Maybe there are chocolate waterfalls
And the rocks are made of fudge
A tree where a kingfisher calls
Or where nobody can criticise or judge.
In your mind are flowers made of silk
And last forever and ever
The cows produce flavoured milk
Cold with ice for whoever and whenever.
You can visit these things any time
Just close your eyes and you are there
No rivers to cross, no hills to climb
No parking ticket required,  no taxi fare.
It is a free service, provided just for you
Just close your eyes, enjoy what you see
See your fields of green, your skies of blue
Your rivers of chocolate and a butterfly tree.
She sets down
her very large glass of Malbec
sighs and lights
a poorly rolled
******-like cigarette
the look on her face
bothers me deeply
I open my mouth
with good intentions
and probably should have
said something like
"Are you ok?"
but what came out
went something like
You are nothing to me
just an **** potato
there's almost nothing
that you could provoke
within anyone
except for the cats
Yeah,
I'd bet you could start
the feline revolution
with your poisoned toenails
and mashed carrots
not even seventeen vats of ****
could make you more slippery
No,
I don't want your wet cake
just bees,
endless mayonnaise
and cherry flavoured toxic yoghurt
...
"you can only pick 2" except I took all 9 pills and wrote this
take that Facebook
YOUR hooves have stamped at the black margin of the wood,
Even where horrible green parrots call and swing.
My works are all stamped down into the sultry mud.
I knew that horse-play, knew it for a murderous thing.
What wholesome sun has ripened is wholesome food to eat,
And that alone; yet I, being driven half insane
Because of some green wing, gathered old mummy wheat
In the mad abstract dark and ground it grain by grain
And after baked it slowly in an oven; but now
I bring full-flavoured wine out of a barrel found
Where seven Ephesian topers slept and never knew
When Alexander's empire passed, they slept so sound.
Stretch out your limbs and sleep a long Saturnian sleep;
I have loved you better than my soul for all my words,
And there is none so fit to keep a watch and keep
Unwearied eyes upon those horrible green birds.
I

Our ****** dreams, all seedless in the light,
Of light and love the tempers of the heart,
Whack their boys' limbs,
And, winding-footed in their shawl and sheet,
Groom the dark brides, the widows of the night
Fold in their arms.

The shades of girls, all flavoured from their shrouds,
When sunlight goes are sundered from the worm,
The bones of men, the broken in their beds,
By midnight pulleys that unhouse the tomb.

II

In this our age the gunman and his moll
Two one-dimensional ghosts, love on a reel,
Strange to our solid eye,
And speak their midnight nothings as they swell;
When cameras shut they hurry to their hole
down in the yard of day.

They dance between their arclamps and our skull,
Impose their shots, showing the nights away;
We watch the show of shadows kiss or ****
Flavoured of celluloid give love the lie.

III

Which is the world? Of our two sleepings, which
Shall fall awake when cures and their itch
Raise up this red-eyed earth?
Pack off the shapes of daylight and their starch,
The sunny gentlemen, the Welshing rich,
Or drive the night-geared forth.

The photograph is married to the eye,
Grafts on its bride one-sided skins of truth;
The dream has ****** the sleeper of his faith
That shrouded men might marrow as they fly.

IV

This is the world; the lying likeness of
Our strips of stuff that tatter as we move
Loving and being loth;
The dream that kicks the buried from their sack
And lets their trash be honoured as the quick.
This is the world. Have faith.

For we shall be a shouter like the ****,
Blowing the old dead back; our shots shall smack
The image from the plates;
And we shall be fit fellows for a life,
And who remains shall flower as they love,
Praise to our faring hearts.
David Bird May 2010
You must pay attention now please,
What I want is a full flavoured cheese.
  It will not make me fat,
  I will not believe that,
It will help all the joints in my knees.

Stroke my coat it is fluffy and sleek,
Do it well, and my knees will go weak,
  Gently rubbing my spine,
  Makes me feel so divine,
So much so, I could let out a squeak.

You have learnt how to treat every cat,
Be sure that you endeavour such that,
  That cat will be grateful,
  At every new plateful;
No more gifts will be left on your mat.
..........
Stephen Fry's Cat is a character on twitter:
  twitter.com/StephenFrysCat
I'm there too:
  twitter.com/DaveBardBird
Àŧùl Jul 2015
I've had my breakfast,
Still I'm so much hungry,
Only 'cause of her, I guess!

I've not talked to her,
She's the only hunger I've,
Both in my days & my nights.

I've liked her flavour,
Flavoured it is like olives,
Her voice is my final dessert.
A morning poem for my enamorata.

My HP Poem #892
©Atul Kaushal
lilpoiein Jul 2014
A fear,
clueless of its phobia name.

A fear,
for losing a pack of chips.

A fear,
for opening to what will end.

A fear,
of ending a pack of costly chips.

A fear,
of having no pack of chips in the cabinet.

A fear,
of missing chips without a notice.

A fear,
that disappear once you open a pack
and restore new ones back into the cabinet.
Sara Jakke Oct 2012
Sunshine arises a delightful smile on my face
For the time of twilight compassionate and sweet
The darkness of the night escorts an exotic trance
Where music titillates and tingles the tolerant minds

We trip the light fantastic ceasing in the catnap room
Reach for dreams as hypnotic states are entered
To the other side of the tunnel
Sequences continue like trees do through seasons

At dawn I will laugh from the salty raindrops
That declared war to my skin
Clouds shooting never ending water molecules
Ocean flavoured waterfalls drip down my lips

When the sun is sublime
The world makes me laugh
For people are odd and reality is unsurprising
The clock ticks life away as it puts life in time

When birds abandon sweet lullabies
Sunflowers wind their heads away from the sun
And tranquil colours paint the abstract sky
My heart is in peace and butterflies tickle my tummy
Bohemian Apr 2019
My neck feels so anxious
The last time it had laid on a pillow
It felt an utter discomfort
Where on the bed should my hair be placed
For each strand has grown so tall with such a pace
My callus is so pale
Frozen are my palms
Lips fall dead dry ,no, I don't apply any flavoured balm
Eyes behold an anchor upon
I curl up under the sheets
But by the morning I'm fresh and flushed.
Debanjana Saha Mar 2018
Ever wondered what raw beauty is?
I feel it now, I understand it now.
I don't like sweet people
All coated in best sugary dips
Like the artificial flavoured ones.

Rather I prefer now the raw bitterness
At least it's not coated or artificial
It's raw and honest
No matter how much it hurts
At least it is what it is
Love to taste the raw bitterness
With beauty within intact in it.
Beauty in raw whether it's sweet or bitter
That's at least truthful to how it is. No mask. Just how it is to be.
Jack Aylward Oct 2015
I have settled and grown up
Here as a child where the
Garden is full of flowers and fruit
And the river is a rainbow.

The smell of peat fires in the morning
And warm crusted bread wafts
Slowly down the lane.

Wooden crates full to the top
With apples, pears
And strawberries
Are left outside the front porch
Ready to be brought
Into the cottage
Where the juices fall
Into an outstanding
Fruitfulness.

Roses hang still over the river and blossom
Into wine
Where also in the garden of light
Bullfinches, sparrows,
Chaffinches sing
And daisies and buttercups lie
In a sweltering sun
Of perfumed heat.

Over and over the green hills
I look down into the deep valleys
Where lakes are flavoured with
Pineapples and waterfalls
With damsons.

The garden of apricot jams, willows
And lily ponds open and spread
Their tasteful colour in an
Orchard of beaming texture and an
Opening of real wonder.

In our thatched white cottage
Smoked hams saturated in salt and fat
Sit above the crackling log fire
And the rooms are filled with gloominess.
A particular charm drifts through
The place from the
Warm glowing fire.

- Oh how the light passes through the
Whole house and how each window
Is a copy of glittering diamonds
That spreads
Across the musical garden of bells
And down onto the cobbled path
Where the geese
Flap their feathered gowns and fly off
Into the blue mountains
Where their
Feathers fall into the sun.

Cider is drunk by the gallon
From cider presses
And the fragrant
Ingredients are a special delight
Not to mention what it does
To the mind afterwards
As we drown happily
Upon the grass
Reading poetry
Or kissing our lovers soft lips
Under the shade of the trees
There the dove calls from the tree tops
Where our earthly hearts are scattered
And nearby a rose closely shimmers
In an azured wood.

©Jack Aylward
Rangzeb Hussain Apr 2010
My soul today in blood did weep,
Shorn are my wings and my head ensnared in necromantic sleep,
For she who I love
have loved
will love,
She silenced me with silence,
The reckless world does cruelly mock and never sees
those without a voice,
There is no freedom in forced choices,
Responsibility, I have been informed,
was yesterday in the sewer drowned,
Thus it is I have learnt
the lesson by being on the crossroad broken and burnt,
My storm flavoured lady
do you really see me as infernal Hades?

"Why hast thou so easily
forsaken
One
who would sail the endless
uncharted oceans
at your bidding?"


I was always yours to command,
Your sweet word was my bond,
This night I stand mute by the crest of the craggy cliffs,
All these wrecks were once my dreaming ships,
My life so swiftly nailed
before it could upon the horizon set and sail.

On the windswept crag my mind swirls and aches,
My heart each and every day now hotly blisters and bakes,
One look back do I take
for to glance yet again and slake
my thirst at the fountain of your devastating smile,
You tell me we shall nevermore be reconciled,
Then I am no more!
I plummet to the depths of the foaming shore,
Just a speck in the moonlight,
Carrion crows shall not be denied their delight,
They shall feast upon the carcass of the morrow,
Already thou hast forgot me and my sorrow.

O, my love!
I love you yet, my dove!
****** though I be
and even though my eyes be closed your beauty yet I see!
O, come back to me please
And cut down my corpse from this weeping Judas tree.



©Rangzeb Hussain
Kai P. Feb 2010
I think I've procured myself again
The word 'filth' comes to mind
(For lack of a better word)

Yeah, I'm a *****
Unmetalled in the interface
It took yet another 'kind' word
Or should that be 'false' word
To realize what they think of me

To think
With their mangled good looks
Ubiquitous in psyche
Like they ever gave a chocolate-flavoured ****

Soon they'll all have had a go with me
And i'll become
How do you say? Sui generis?
Numb betwixt the thighs

I 'detest' myself
(For lack of a better word)
And I stare at the periwinkle
To find relief

And that's still no relief
Because I'm jealous of periwinkle
The capita thinks it's 'beautiful'
And of course 'I am no periwinkle'
(For lack of a better understatement)

For lack of a better me.
SassyJ May 2016
The botanics and vitamins of a smoothie
Condense from the pulp, the fluff and seeds
A site, a gulp, such a painting of my swallow
Yet your words are flavoured and nutritious
A flash of sageness, a tick and trick of mind
Years used, time passed and moments amassed
The label stuck, the price tug plug and tagged
Avatars resurrected from undesired mines mime
Dusted and polished then placed on an antiquated shelf
Bloomed and groomed from a desiccated gloom
A wonder as a dear friend drag me from the grave
cheryl love Aug 2015
Nothing, but nothing would make her life more complete
Without something in her mouth that tasted oh so sweet
But then everything sweet that went into those rich red lips
Gathered permanently on those rather expanding fairy hips.
It did not matter how sugary, the colour of the sweet or the size
It was all eaten pleasurably and then went to her thighs.
She loved it all,  gob stoppers, fairy pips and most of all toffee
Sugar mice, dandelion heads and gums flavoured with coffee.
She always had loads of packets of creamy fake sweet eggs
they had the taste of an orange but accumulated on her legs.
The more she ate, the fatter they got, which had its good bits
They enables her to perch in the tree until the wood splits.
She had packed in her fairy store all kinds of fruit whips
every kind of chocolate bar, lollipop and candied pips.
In all flavours, apple, banana, woodland berry and plum
But it mattered not to her how sweet, like it does to some.
Every slice, every little fruit drop, each little wrapped bar
was placed in its own nicely labelled sweet jar.
Lined up at the bottom of her favourite tree, her treat booth
Her world is complete, for the fairy of the sweet tooth.
Charles Smith Mar 2015
Farouche outline,
melting into the stool.
Slippery palms, flavoured beef and onion,
now it's 5 o'clock.

Hands turn.

Willing a pint to be half full, not half empty.
Slumped since 1978, timeless as the wallpaper.

Hands turn.

Mustard teeth to compliment his tongue.
Paralysed from his lifting elbow down.

Hands turn.

Jutting cigarette from blubber lips, burnt out.
Spitting in the ******, ritual, it's good luck.

Hands turn.

Lucky he's got time then,
Read behind bloodshot eyes.  
Ice in the cider, it'll last longer than him.

Hands turn.

An echo, I think it's a bell.  
You're out, he knows.

Hands turn.

Cold bites at the door, he huddles out.
A lighter lost, a bottle-top gained.
The wind taunts the black velvet sheet of white pin ******.

Hands stop.

JWS
Met someone in a pub, who looked happy beneath blood-shot eyes.
Axiana Apr 2014
I only ask for chocolate flavoured beats
And music the texture of melting ice cream
Just whisper something that is deliciously
In a tone that reacts with me perfectly
Make me feel a secret summer breeze
Inspiring me to create promises I might keep
While swimming in pastel splashed harmonies
I pull away from the borders of my dreams
No longer waiting for the perfect time to leap
Because there just might be
Within 7 minutes of melodies
A hidden pair of wings
Some old rusted keys
Floating in these deep
Soft songs of luxuries
It can be Frustrating to look so mean
When Success presents your Certificate
And Honest Fans some to most turn so Green
When their Tangent Voices are celibate
Now my only Say to unsoak the Blame
Is when that Sponge within Speaks without Words
You know it as HEART; That Character sane,
Serene discharge of Flavoured Bees and Birds
Even when Flowers rebel and Worms spit
Still your Compassion can embrace them all
Believe this: In, to Out, Around and Fit
Past the Royal Egg survive a Great Fall.
It's been there in you; And all of this Time
My Lesson to learn from Wise Owls behind.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994

— The End —