Friday, October 1, 2010

Love is it?

Love is it?

My rose sings a sweets a song a she fries
She gets the fried pulses to simmer
Simmer as they brown she puts them on can
With water, salt and spice the flavor is on
As the flames simmer as twilight
She walks by me to mention it is on light
In passion as I embrace her presence
She quivers as sunflower in sunset
When I get her in my arms
Appears Ulysses playing firm
As I wish the valley’s and mountains to see
In thy presence’s all

Why you blame O’ Lord
Of the plain’s blame of me
Never knew your origin
Neither aware of valleys to for me
For forsaken woman and children to be

Forever this coy, accepts thy to be
In your heart, health and mind to be
Poly when the word arises
Think before it would reprise of symptoms to be


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