Pikin Amerasb Poet Prose Poetry

Snow Burst Candy Flake

We rode beyond the flip
Of Walter and his friends,
On this *****steady slip
In the cabin to the west,
Where the pride of lions sleep
All night till the end.

On the hillside of west,
The corns are left for rats,
The moonlight is left
For the cave of the bats,
The stars in themselves
Are laid so on the mat.

That same mile leads the heap
Of lofty stuffs up the hills,
The snow of flake spills
Into Eve's marshy opened hips,
And the apples of honey 
Are plucked on Adam's lips.

The bed bath of Mr. Benson
Floats out steadily in the skies,
Reaching the pride of the sons
Laid up the feet so high,
Sailing all the phantom men
On the carpet of the smile.

There is a table solely laid
Down below the blue ceiling,
Also is a shea iced cake
In the pie wholly sealed in,
And the storm of the day
Rains in the fields of candy.

The circles are in squares
In the Square at the Circle,
The cycles can be shared
In dome down the valleys;
The clones you can swerve,
And bike up the galley.

Now that I have you mine
On the hills up the shores,
Take a look the while
At the feathers of the scores,
One by one in the time,
And rise up on these songs.

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