A Dreamed Story That Never Happened

One Blackberry winter in the cliffs of Ireland An early woodpecker passed by And a red robin flying so high Colored like chrysalis in an orange land A white clown I am, peace and wind I see, feel around Early winter in plain view so far by the harbor Peace, joy, contentment has a realist painter Sun and sand minichu over the ground The winter gift I wished this day engulfed Sands of time of motherly wind Turquoise TriSaratop dining out Blueberries released three inches by wind Flies, mockingbird and butterfly eating out Flushed mind, not of the writer's friend I recall Laughed at the white clown discovered by one and all Purple sage of golden fall, magically mingled almost fall Tattered but warm, Australia down under brushed strokes in hibiscus flowers of the coming Fall Pink cotton candy I missed like Sp Not Spam of the drenching rain in flight Smell like tricolored cat, not Rocky Busy as ocean waves but behaved when she met the master Cardinal beauty in the whisps of Spring Hummingbird intrigued by a kiss of sunshine bring On the old wooden bench I sat and dross Number "10" I saw carved on wood so gross Two birds suddenly appeared Drenched like butterfly kisses on spilled coffee brewed One Rutabaga cooked with liatis for me Cold was I, splitting an infinitive of me Two days later he gave me two pink birds And I named them in Italian, "Pane e Tulipani" "Story written, commending a dreamed poetess Titles written by the same revered poetess Only some titles named and listed Many of you already knew and bested." (Prosebite)