Kite - An Octave of all Spondees

Go high my kite so right.
Seek thy sky flight, flow free.
Make thy way, find breeze light.
Take hold, wee prize, we see.
Tied tail needs airspace height.
Make sleek line tight, jolt me.
Please find wayout, gain space.
Show Lane they windswept grace.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

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