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How could it be , mother dear , on my forehead , is it your Biloxi ? I had an entire morn, in good mourning, leaving for good, still it could! and in so many ways it is true, just know there to be true, at least to start somewhere, once again, forever, more!
I and thou, to know how,  our buffalo  in Henry Wordsworth Longfellow went on for an angling, to find them in two, to believe in threads, yes!!! we do!!!
And the pretty leader! here I come! He meows throughout a day,with his brightest may, as white pure as  it can be, along the longest unbroken (frontage types of noises) along an once prevailing sea!
Tell him, mom, he needs to sigh, Bartholomew!
The day is done, wrap your unspoken words in clouds and shapes, with a blissful grace, and heal thy soul, through your biblical four!
The beloved unknown, went to fetch a ladder of stone, for no good reason, out from nowhere, came a big spider!
The evangelical holy water!

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