No flower to atier a head of curls
A lark of song to be continued without a thought
Summery days long they go as the wind blows
Ascend through the thought as mirage occurs
Placid as water still the thought become necessary
Quiet as sparrow’s nest as empty times of trouble becomes
Wonder questioning and still the necessary becomes a trouble
The mirage may still befuddle the elucid
Serif as the time of duty is the flower of tiara
Conjecture conjecture is the applause of a well rehearsed thought of unknown but revealed it clear as bell as free
Semiotics as the colloquial fool spurts expression of semblance of rhyme as ribbed of ribald a thought of ricochet reversion
Nomads of beguiled nonconformity of native mycology that befuddles the mystic as state of naivety
The mode of mien bespeaks the chariots of all that memoirs a metaphor of mettle and becomes a tiara of flowers
By
Felicia McCaw
Thursday, October 30, 2014
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