Roaming moon.

There the dark allowed you, peck through so you can spot totes hopping, you with telephoto

lens projecting. It is Autumn now, and no waterfalls nearby,only solider tomb stones, plus a water sheaf.

Roam, roam the night for you, and me. A precious gift would sent only if your birthday knew. let me know for I dearth the act

of failing grades.

Roam, roaming, roam until I felt asleep in bed at 3: 45 A:M at Cold Bar Boulevard.

The coming of Autumn

Spring and Summer passed, and I Autumn, your
elegance bride is extending my hands, it is your.

Spring passed, the hard birthing of life, winter
wearisome load often tell its tales. Am your
nightingale, let the restful place clad you a pillow
hover onto my breast. Fill it with your tries, your
ocean with un-measurable depth.

I understand the syllables, the failing language you
cannot speak in the Cosmo bubble's. I share no
power over you, come rest and refresh for the
coming winter.


This is my take today, and certainly there is hope to by.