Distant flames are the sienna mane of Marney
The auburn tresses of winter steeds
Breath exposed in December breezes ,
ground quaking in thunderous charges ,
hoofed impressions in rain soaked , neglected
gardens ..
Whinnies in harmony with dancing hardwood ,
with rustling grasses , with a pastured expanse
that drones in twilights advance* ...

Boom boom bam! Went the bombs,
and I shreiked with fear,
we were safe in a bomb
saftey place, but that did not
stop the fear creeping,
creeping in, and frightining our
frightend world of fear.


"Boom bam bam!" My little sister
shreiked, and even with our fear
and fright we all giggled just a bit,
but then we heard the bang just
outside our walls, and were once again
consumed by the fear of the frightend
world outside - fighting for our world.


"Be quiet now dear Jennifer,
hold onto marney now!"
cried my dear brother peter over the
noise of bombs falling, falling, the sound
of bombs falling, the sound
of fear death and dying,
"Dye!" they seemed to screech,
outside in the world of fear outside.


The army was fighting people were
dyeing, it was all to much for me,
and the last thing I heard before
I fainted away, was dear little
Rosemary crying "Boom bam bam!
Boom boom bam!"