it eases to please but never to decieve so the way goes and toes lines from which I pirch upon bended knees from apple trees where a man once hung or released his dung to tongue the sun.

somewhere in one way a river knows and notes the growth of rapid slows and shoes made wet with winter tears and summer sometime slumber fears.

so now I lay me down to rest and hope the best for every pest and dance a quick wet fingered wisp remembered earlier a whip no quip could better but disguise this spring-like fragrance 'round your eyes.

PEACE - Tristan