The Dove
They all wish,
and dreams collide- on a dime-
on a dive,
they say in admonished curves in time and color,
of those flapping doves,
seizes mind a flutter,
they wish to seal within the prosperous carrothers-
sanctity of motion,
hectors O' acres of the dozens...
They all wish one the baskets on the ovens-
and upon dishes their bumpkins-
that loudness to be promised to everyone we have punished.
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