the day came slow,till five o'clock
then sprang before the hills
like hindered rubes or light
a sudden musket spills
the purple could not keep the east
the sunrise shook form fold
like breaths of topaz packed a night
the lady just unrolled
the happy winds their timbrels took;
the birds in docile rows,
arranged them self around their prince
(the wind is the prince of those)
the orchard sparkled like a jew
how might it was,to stay
a guest in this stupen douse place
the parlr of the day
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living life with out a clue yea...
my randomness
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