For Earth-Mother
Roll on, oh silver ball, roll on
The golden hills demand it.
Gabriel cannot find his horn
He was so drunk last night
May he never find it.
\The sorry end denied;
The Heaven forgone,
The H*** a figment.
\Roll on, oh silver ball, roll on
The rocking-cradle seas soporific as ever
The vales green with the lush of Spring
Warmed with the udder
Of the Eternal Mother - Nature
Copyright © Gary Thomas | Year Posted 2013
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