Roll On Then Small Pebble

Roll On Then Small Pebble in a pilgrims tattered boot a guarantee of greater grace for blood you cause to flow discarded at the altar your sacred chore complete a hallowed place in heave poor wretched pilgrim won. in a chubby toddlers hand browned and honey sweet from days of summer sun sleep by his feather pillow safe in a treasure box found again in twenty years your meaning not quite lost. in a limping, stallion hoof of warring generals horse panting in a mire of pain stumbling on the enemy surrounded by the foe strategic battle almost won was counted as a draw. in a pocket deep and empty but for you a last minute thought plucked from harbours gritty pier a touch stone to remember home fair wind sighs a great adventure to the disenfranchised throng sailing in titanic hold.