The bride's dowry was a windmill,
    with a red rooster, on the top singing,
     counting both the beginnings
    and the ends, in a time that's too round
    where just the field cracks under the drought, all around.

    Thirty-one crickets singing in the grass,
    mats made of straw, new dishes of glass,
    six she-goats, and a he-goat shaking its goatee,
    like a house that it's just beginning, you see.

    I've been there too, the Dandelion asked me to,
    but I have not all seen, whatever there has been
    while dancing with Sun Flower, she raised over and covered me
    I couldn't get angry, so I am blooming too, you see!


    Previous Poem Insomnia
    Next Poem Santa's Coming!
  • ingtorrent.com
  • abouttorrent.com
  • storytorrent.com