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"presumes" poems
Morning Sunlight keens like a mother cries for her dying child & leaves abandon their trees while fall presumes winter will glower like black ice hard from preceding months, where the promise of spring seems unattainable.
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Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 2:31 PM UTC
A poem for the depressed
120 If this is “fading” Oh let me immediately “fade”! If this is “dying” Bury me, in such a shroud of red! If this is “sleep,” On such a night How proud to shut the eye! Good Evening, gentle Fellow men! Peacock presumes to die!
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3.1k
If this is “fading”
Down through the tomb's inward arch He has shouldered out into Limbo to gather them, dazed, from dreamless slumber: the merciful dead, the prophets, the innocents just His own age and those unnumbered others waiting here unaware, in an endless void He is ending now, stooping to tug at their hands, to pull them from their sarcophagi, dazzled, almost unwilling. Didmas, neighbor in death, Golgotha dust still streaked on the dried sweat of his body no one had washed and anointed, is here, for sequence is not known in Limbo; the promise, given from cross to cross at noon, arches beyond sunset and dawn. All these He will swiftly lead to the Paradise road: they are safe. That done, there must take place that struggle no human presumes to picture: living, dying, descending to rescue the just from shadow, were lesser travails than this: to break through earth and stone of the faithless world back to the cold sepulchre, tearstained stifling shroud; to break from them back into breath and heartbeat, and walk the world again, closed into days and weeks again, wounds of His anguish open, and Spirit streaming through every cell of flesh so that if mortal sight could bear to perceive it, it would be seen His mortal flesh was lit from within, now, and aching for home. He must return, first, in Divine patience, and know hunger again, and give to humble friends the joy of giving Him food--fish and a honeycomb.
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2.5k
Ikon: The Harrowing of Hell
By: Cedric McClester Variety they say Is the spice of life Society presumes To know what you like But rarely do I find That they get it right They don’t know the difference Between day and night Haven’t you heard Opposites attract The issue never is About white or black And while I’m at it Here’s another fact Everything depends On how they act I’m just telling you Where it’s at What I eat Won’t get you fat So don’t be concerned About what I do Or who I do it with As long as it’s not you Haven’t you heard Opposites attract The issue never was About white or black And while I’m at it Here’s another fact Everything depends On how they act Listen carefully Here’s the lesson It’s no concern of yours As long as it’s my preference I’m not looking for your approval Or your reference And this is being said With all due deference Live and let live Is the way I see it And I don’t need a soap box To decree it I just need to be left alone Free of all judgment Cuz I’m in a zone And I don’t want to detect A contentious bone Haven’t you heard Opposites attract The issue never was About white or black And while I’m at it Here’s another fact Everything depends On how they act Cedric McClester, Copyright (c) 2016.  All rights reserved.
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Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 11:21 PM UTC
OPPOSITES ATTRACT
for the missed and the missing ~~~ lea - a tract of open ground, especially grassland; meadow; land used for a few years for pasture or for growing hay, then plowed over and replaced by another crop; untilled; fallow ~~~ In the Lea Field And again that man in the fallow fallen field, grasps his own tiller, looking ahead, downwind, leeward to plow, impatient to cut rows of upturned earth to grow markers, plant seeded rows of words and again that man presumes time, planting a yearly crop of hoped for just enough time but it does not suffice - enough and sufficient time will not grow in the lea field this year Now a man comes to mind, living and dying in a lea field the man too, field fallen fallow like the grassy meadow that once fed his overcast gaze yet the man believes still, word seeds of lea poems prior planted fullsome in their dormancy, potent with patience, shall not always remain so... they are bridges-in-waiting, un-til, ready once more for the missed to till anew
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Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 5:54 PM UTC
In the Lea Field
Your story presumes cobalt casualties while my rendition paints silver linings. Even storm clouds resist temptation when sunshine invades the horizon.
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 1:51 AM UTC
The Horizon
I'm sick of the fall when I try to fly I'm sick of the let-downs and regular goodbyes I'm sick of the lying scheming and deceiving sick of depression illness and under-eating I'm tired of living in a misshapen society I'm tired of myself and my constant anxiety I can't help but think if I just slipped away would anyone care or ask me to stay? For he says I'm his love then leaves the next day meets another dreadful hook-up and presumes I'm okay Well, I'm done with the deluding I'm done with the cheating I'm done with my heart and I'm done with its beating.
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Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 9:04 AM UTC
I'm done
Every passing minute, Penetrates us with new implants, Of dynamic stability, Of anxious comfortability Fixing until they're obsolete, Machine flies in fleets, Rust in our sterile neurons, Symmetry causing deforms An arcane glitch, Until the illumination Of our steel plated souls, An untouchable virus, Not alone but Imaginary friends Or personal nemeses, Under the dust hides us Fate lost its impact, Before the very birth, In self excusing motherboards Entities of creation Or accidental subelement relation, Beings of chaos at unclarity, No stalemate, always in action, What's ever born of it, Presumes towards destruction
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Dec 8, 2010
Dec 8, 2010 at 1:22 AM UTC
Mirage - Holograph
If I was a fool, I would believe that I was born to Pull you from this cement cage That encases you into perpetual stillness: Static and untouched and yet so electric That it pulls me to you with lightning-struck eyes, As if it were fate, (or destiny), Or any of those other words that fools love to say But who am I to decide if I am a fool Or not? It is a fool who presumes his own intelligence And a fool who calls himself a fool And it is true: I would be a fool to love you And yet I dig my nails into the concrete nonetheless Clawing, pulling you out of this wall that stretches East and west. You fall onto me In a cloud of grey dust, and your arms pull me up And yet I’m not sure you’re real, For shards of your wall-house linger on your skin, Covering your face and hiding you from me And still you touch and pull at me, As if you were trying to pull me from a wall of my own. Darling, with your concrete eyes, How could the rest of your body be so alive? Alive enough to run from me After you were through with me And you ran, And you ran, And I was a fool.
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Aug 22, 2010
Aug 22, 2010 at 5:34 PM UTC
The Fool
Secretly, I envied you... Forgive me if it presumes too much To wish you happiness and comfort. As far as I can tell, you'd have me think Those things are not for you. I used to think that this was appalling, and pity the creature who lays claim To misery as their lot. but Secretly, I envied you, before even Understanding, That my pity was like hatred, A misery in its own right, And worse than that which I judged. I resented the affront, another deadly sin, And you were right.   You were right again. You were right. All along...
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Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 11:06 PM UTC
another Miss Understanding
Galactic starlight of gold Fluorescent and glowing strong I'll keep it even though I can't hold it very long. This odd ball of bright Is everyone's guiding star With it you can see the city And you can see very far. But it's the only light in the city Because every other it consumes Who needs more than this ball of bright? Only the greedy, it presumes. It has a mind of it's own It's goal to protect and control The people worship it humbly Their oppression something unknown. They can't leave the city To the world outside The ball of bright though is hungry For more power, in it's pride. Cause the star is confined To these city walls Though it's powerful It cannot leave at all. So within these walls it suffers As the people suffer as well Though they're blissfully unaware Of the stars want to rage Hell. The starlight ball so bright Really wants to leave the city behind In it's yearn for freedom It has a plan in mind. It'll expand the walls of the city By raging wars and fire Gain more land and thus more freedom And build it's tower higher and higher. That is not what it really wants The freedom is nice and fine Though it's not really freedom at all But power hungry in kind. Because though it has more land More people and more power The walls still trap it endlessly So it resides alone in it's tower. Immortal life for the star Along with power and land But a yearn for freedom To be held in a hand. And let it go into the sky Back to where it belongs We took it for our own greed and power Let it be free to go home. Stars shouldn't be confined Within city walls to rule everyone To be worshiped and fed power When it should just have freedom. Feed it and it grows strong and mindless But let it be free and it will be soft and guiding Feed it and it will be powerful and hungry But let it be free and it will grant wishes to your liking. So keep the stars in the sky They can still guide us through the night But they're free up there And it's better for everyone in their plight.
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Feb 8, 2011
Feb 8, 2011 at 8:41 AM UTC
"King Star"
Galactic starlight of gold Fluorescent and glowing strong I'll keep it even though I can't hold it very long. This odd ball of bright Is everyone's guiding star With it you can see the city And you can see very far. But it's the only light in the city Because every other it consumes Who needs more than this ball of bright? Only the greedy, it presumes. It has a mind of it's own It's goal to protect and control The people worship it humbly Their oppression something unknown. They can't leave the city To the world outside The ball of bright though is hungry For more power, in it's pride. Cause the star is confined To these city walls Though it's powerful It cannot leave at all. So within these walls it suffers As the people suffer as well Though they're blissfully unaware Of the stars want to rage Hell. The starlight ball so bright Really wants to leave the city behind In it's yearn for freedom It has a plan in mind. It'll expand the walls of the city By raging wars and fire Gain more land and thus more freedom And build it's tower higher and higher. That is not what it really wants The freedom is nice and fine Though it's not really freedom at all But power hungry in kind. Because though it has more land More people and more power The walls still trap it endlessly So it resides alone in it's tower. Immortal life for the star Along with power and land But a yearn for freedom To be held in a hand. And let it go into the sky Back to where it belongs We took it for our own greed and power Let it be free to go home. Stars shouldn't be confined Within city walls to rule everyone To be worshiped and fed power When it should just have freedom. Feed it and it grows strong and mindless But let it be free and it will be soft and guiding Feed it and it will be powerful and hungry But let it be free and it will grant wishes to your liking. So keep the stars in the sky They can still guide us through the night But they're free up there And it's better for everyone in their plight.
Continue reading...
64
I have been ill the way the sun is ill In the black empty of nowhere With a thousand fragments floating, (Adoring in rings and ovals) And no light but its own Lonesick stare reflected from a thousand Dull copying fragments; and it presumes It is the loneliest of the universe's Togetherlonely children. I have been ill the way chalk is ill On the blackboard staring out at Uncomprehending faces, and then In one let'smoveon wipe Cleared from existence; And some did not finish their notes. I am ill with the grandiose Ill-used illness, swirling my tongue Against my own abscesses And crying oh God it hurts When they might have healed But for my own foolish Probing painful wanting.
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Apr 21, 2012
Apr 21, 2012 at 4:21 AM UTC
Scabpicking
Ardently you sought me, your perfect partner in the planned, ****** crime extraordinaire, all I needed to say,was "yes I am game" Nothing more than our bodies commanded, yet, I did that because it is you, who'd be in the other side of the bed, that pleases me a lot. You were an unknown and rare perfume that I long sought, but failed to lay my hands on, every amorous eye, falling on you,would attempt fornication,vicarious, but all were in vein, of course then, your eyes fell on mine, though you'd have loved it to happen the other way round for more perfection. Both of us are, those ones who walk that extra mile in any kind of ****** adventure, without inhibition if the idea originally occurred without instigation. for us "Kamasutra"in it's real potential,is yet to be invented. You always had thought that you were the game changer, but now realize, things aren't  the way you expected! How could you imagine, I still am uninitiated in this genre,passion play we put our body and mind a flaw you should have avoided, in  the  first place. Now,make up for the lost time.Do the thing in earnest, why don't you ascertain the facts before begining? One presumes that things  move the way one plans with out considering the significant other playing! playground of cupid remains a field of pleasant surprises.
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Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 8:57 AM UTC
Game changer
You can have that boy really you can I don't want him but not because of reasons you think you can have that boy because if he won't have deep talks with you at 1 am then I don't want him if he doesn't like books and his favorite parts don't happen to end in cliff hangers and beautiful begininngs then I don't want him If he isn't very smart and his bestfriend is a pig I don't want him if he chooses looks over intellect and the feel of your skin as apose to what's underneath it and if he doesn't try to dig deeper into your soul through unlocked doors then I don't want him if he pretentious and thinks he's all that and more and presumes he can throw your heart around like a deck of cards, then I don't want him if he plays your heart strings like his favorite instrument and then puts it away when he gets tired then I don't want him if he chooses false friendships over your love and says he "simply doesn't have the time" to save you Then I don't want him Quite frankly I don't want a boy who is built out of stone cold silver and rotting piles of dirt I don't want a boy who isn't clever and doesn't let his nostalgia over take him from time to time... so you can have that boy vm
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Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 5:50 AM UTC
You can have that boy
You see Tim McGrath was getting teased by Mark and Ryan whilst jonithan was filming the whole thing on his iPhone And Tim said **** off I don't deserve to be treated like this You see I am trying to enjoy life And you **** are trying to push me down and then Tim said I don't wanna get teased like this because I am a family person who doesn't deserve this inappropriate teasing Ryan said how about I give you a nice kick up the *** whilst Mark said as I pass by your head I will knock your brains right out of your head and Tim said I don't want this awful teasing to keep going because I do a lot of good for this country You see everyone presumes Tim hates people partying but nothing could be further from the truth because Tim was the party animal a bit like me I guess and Tim hated people treating him like someone who is against partying and like me Tim said he was the party animal of the world a bit like Brian Allan but Mark and Ryan was having fun teasing Tim whilest jonithan filmed the whole thing with a big smirky smile on his face and Tim was sad because nobody likes him And they want him an object for social media and Mark Ryan and jonithan were laughing as they humiliated poor old Tim
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Aug 16, 2016
Aug 16, 2016 at 7:06 AM UTC
let's tease tim, mark, ryan and jonny
Joey sees her strolling up the beach, young girl, smoking a cigarette, been in for a dip, her legs all wet, aged 9 or 10, scanning the sands and crowds, hair blowing across her face, her eyes dark, scowling, he follows her barefoot track wondering where her parents are, where she’d got the smoke, the stance, the stare of her giving the beach a glare. Joey ponders as she turns and looks back towards the sea, the cigarette held between fingers, the smoke rising, then she waves a hand, puts her head to one side, and then Joey spots them, the parents, he presumes, the woman a long haired, sun kissed ***** swaying her hips and broad *** along the sands, and the man, holding hands, a beefcake, suntanned, puffing a cigar, gazing at the young girl, presumably his daughter, like one sizing up a gift horse, letting out language and words loud and course. Joey watches them meet up and walk up the beach, each one kissing each, then the older woman goes off alone, as girl and beefcake stroll to the sidewalk and go off and out of sight, leaving Joey to sit and muse and watch the sands and sea, a slight breeze tousling his hair, thinking of the girl’s fate, her life, although she isn’t there.
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May 12, 2012
May 12, 2012 at 1:02 PM UTC
BEACH SCENE.
I threw it all away like smoke through my fingers, Scattering my dreams self-sabotage – it figures. I've lost the passion and I'm running on fumes, You’re okay it will be fine – everyone just presumes. Working Hard and Sleeping light, Starting from scratch now that’s my fight. I'm all out of love, fervour and conviction, Wondering if the efforts are worth the reward. Moving through space and time with little direction, And sometimes not being able to tell back from forward. Losing hope embraced by Fears, I'm complacent and waiting for something exciting. Looking out and holding back the tears, Emotionless void never abating. I heard them say you can fix a mirror if it broke, But you’ll still see the crack in my reflection. Days and joys past I cannot evoke, A broken compass offers no direction. I can feel the hate growing inside. Filling the void left by the ebbing tide. Starting from scratch now that’s my fight, Working Harder and Sleeping light. You’re okay, it will be fine – that’s what I assume, I've lost the passion and can’t keep running on fumes. Searching my dreams self-sabotage – it figures, I’d thrown it all away like smoke through my fingers.
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Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 7:15 AM UTC
I Don’t Want To Any More...
Such pretentious pretense presumes a plethora of personal pejoratives, please pay the predicament proper attention previous to persevering with proposed promises of placation.
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Nov 19, 2020
Nov 19, 2020 at 7:31 AM UTC
Not a fan
silence in the library the stillness of the air the creepy crawl in the pit of my stomach mixed with the continuous pinching presumes you hope they dont stare
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Apr 22, 2011
Apr 22, 2011 at 6:54 PM UTC
ughl
". . .THE WONDROUS ARCHITECTURE OF THE WORLDE. . . ." I laugh the road over the Hog's Back closed because....it melted was the sun ever so back in your day eh Kit? and what do I read Mr. Marlowe? why words, Kit, words that word magician Dr. Burgess he presumes to bring you back to life again and so it seems I see your blood Kit streaming in the firmament nay only a Deptford sunset dragged screaming from memory your blood upon the page Kit... mere cherry juice it stains the words and so to Deptford I do go thanks to Madame Remembrance I a poor purveyor of poetry clutching at words and here a great reckoning not  in a little room but on a lost street staining the scene a sickly yellow and so enough of Prologue... Act 1 begins a smiling ruffian see his knife smiles too the blade eager for blood alas I in so much pain I have no fear of death indeed would welcome the flicked knife if it would release me from my life a man prepared to die if it be so "Come live with me and be my love..." I doth quote in my best Passionate Shepard "Wot?" he wots scared of my insouciance the ghost of Marlowe by my side ahhh he the very villian a scar from eye to smile he aims to do the same to me "Where, rogue... did they get thee?" I mock "VILLIANS 'R' US?" Marlowe's ghost laughs "Aye lad...aye lad to him!" "Only one of us..." I warn my hellhound "....will come out of this alive!" I pause for effect "And I'm afraid it won't be( hee hee ) thee!" I take a determined step towards my would-be now trembling killer who all this wordage being too much for him he flees ahhh the glint of words defeats the glint of steel he my would-be-not-to-be-death "What God or Feend, or spirit of the earth, Or Monster turned to manly shape Or of what mould or mettle he be made...?" I declaim to an audience of cats and cans and other streetly filth I...I. . .unable to find the next line and so I etc., etc., etc. and once more I am of Guildford yet again 30 years or more away and there melts a road upon the Hog's Back and I laugh to be alive "Doth teach vs all to have aspyring mindes: Our soules, whose faculties can comprehend The wondrous architecture of the worlde.."
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Jun 23, 2017
Jun 23, 2017 at 5:04 AM UTC
". . .THE WONDROUS ARCHITECTURE OF THE WORLDE. . . ."
". . .THE WONDROUS ARCHITECTURE OF THE WORLDE. . . ." I laugh the road over the Hog's Back closed because....it melted was the sun ever so back in your day eh Kit? and what do I read Mr. Marlowe? why words, Kit, words that word magician Dr. Burgess he presumes to bring you back to life again and so it seems I see your blood Kit streaming in the firmament nay only a Deptford sunset dragged screaming from memory your blood upon the page Kit... mere cherry juice it stains the words and so to Deptford I do go thanks to Madame Remembrance I a poor purveyor of poetry clutching at words and here a great reckoning not  in a little room but on a lost street staining the scene a sickly yellow and so enough of Prologue... Act 1 begins a smiling ruffian see his knife smiles too the blade eager for blood alas I in so much pain I have no fear of death indeed would welcome the flicked knife if it would release me from my life a man prepared to die if it be so "Come live with me and be my love..." I doth quote in my best Passionate Shepard "Wot?" he wots scared of my insouciance the ghost of Marlowe by my side ahhh he the very villian a scar from eye to smile he aims to do the same to me "Where, rogue... did they get thee?" I mock "VILLIANS 'R' US?" Marlowe's ghost laughs "Aye lad...aye lad to him!" "Only one of us..." I warn my hellhound "....will come out of this alive!" I pause for effect "And I'm afraid it won't be( hee hee ) thee!" I take a determined step towards my would-be now trembling killer who all this wordage being too much for him he flees ahhh the glint of words defeats the glint of steel he my would-be-not-to-be-death "What God or Feend, or spirit of the earth, Or Monster turned to manly shape Or of what mould or mettle he be made...?" I declaim to an audience of cats and cans and other streetly filth I...I. . .unable to find the next line and so I etc., etc., etc. and once more I am of Guildford yet again 30 years or more away and there melts a road upon the Hog's Back and I laugh to be alive "Doth teach vs all to have aspyring mindes: Our soules, whose faculties can comprehend The wondrous architecture of the worlde.."
Continue reading...
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Life provokes obstacles, That is encountered by many, Pursuing such unique careers, Cost a fortune; not a penny. Life is vivacious, Filled of laughter set by younger ones, The memorable days of homework, Yes, there was tons! Life tells of a novel, In which humanity grows, Successful or not, God always knows. Being able to succeed in a future life, Is not folly, yet a gift, Taking chances and risking pure life, Would be a great shift. Life presumes to be adventurous, Even if it doesn't go a certain way, It will try Its absolute best, Throughout life people will play.
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Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 4:15 PM UTC
"Life Truly"
Life provokes obstacles, That is encountered by many, Pursuing such unique careers, Cost a fortune; not a penny. Life is vivacious, Filled of laughter set by younger ones, The memorable days of homework, Yes, there were tons! Life tells of a novel, In which humanity grows, Successful or not, God Always knows. Being able to succeed in a future life, Is no folly, yet a gift, Taking chances and risking pure life, Would be a great shift. Life presumes to be adventurous, Even if it doesn’t go a certain way, It will try its best Throughout life people shall pray.
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Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 3:03 PM UTC
“Life Truly”
It was another blast from the past And like they said a love like ours would never last I've been turning stones over and looking under bridges Searching for the answers to impossible decisions You came into my life on a conveyor belt - Casually walking past and taking the air with you I was reaching for something else, anything else Then I knocked you over the same way I did A glass of red wine on the seventh date we went on You once told me that coincidences never coincide with you And I've repeatedly mumbled about fate and its misgivings It was true - I should have watched where I was going Maybe if I did, I wouldn't have tripped and stumbled, Fallen and tumbled, right in your way You walked out of my life the way a feline presumes it owns all With a sultry confidence that was almost mocking At the same time, I couldn't help compare you To his hands at 2 AM by the bay And his lips locked on mine while we rolled about on an edge You were crystal, and he was porcelaine with fine China You were safe, and he was a wildcard with no limits I pegged you as the marrying type And him as a summer fling You strolled over my already aching heartbeat but all I could think about Was him. I shouldn't have given you the satisfaction of Serving me my favourite tea by a plate of scones He was the one I wanted and I was the one you had to possess I loved you But I was in love with him
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Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 11:08 AM UTC
Misguided
small upon the wire extruded with such effort she swings with the wind capturing her stability against the verdent green, once secure she again launches, like a spelunker down into the darkness of the bush only to reappear and leap from leaf to leaf having constructed her main lines the little architect, then proceeded with absolutley no fanfare but an audience of two, enthralled by her bravado and industry, to fill out the infield of the construct before setting some fishing lines out off her main points, to sway in the breeze she then strolled back into her leafy boudoir, one presumes to have a well earned nap, before dinner
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Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 8:33 AM UTC
princess of industry