Poetry Forum Areas

Introduce Yourself

New to PoetrySoup? Introduce yourself here. Tell us something about yourself.

Looking for a Poem

Can't find a poem you've read before? Looking for a poem for a special person or an occasion? Ask other member for help.

Writing Poetry

Ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas how to write better.

High Critique

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

How do I...?

Ask PoetrySoup Members how to do something or find something on PoetrySoup.

Beach Allah Poems | Beach Poems About Allah

These Beach Allah poems are examples of Beach poems about Allah. These are the best examples of Beach Allah poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Lyric |

While You Sleep

While you sleep I tell you all of the things I keep inside throughout day.
Now that you can hear but not listen I find them much easier to say.
My hopes, my dreams, my fears, and everything in between
Your subconscious hears so keen, or so it seems.
My tongue is soft; I speak so sweetly 
Knowing your reaction will never greet me.

Tonight will be different in what I want you to know.
It has everything to do with what I can’t help but show.
I hold no claim to any religion but you’ve given me a place for my faith.
Somewhere it will never stale or lose its lavish taste.
You’ve shown me something I can see, touch, and feel, 
And so before it I choose to kneel.

I know I don’t say it but I miss you every day.
Sitting, thinking of the perfect words to be my choice,
Yet when you call I can’t find any of the right words to say.
I’m just happy to finally hear your voice.
Even just a moment is enough to sooth my heavy heart;
Fearing the ends of conversations knowing we’ll have to part.

I’ll never be too far from you, always within arm’s reach,
And in your days of darkness I’ll be the light that you will seek.
I’ll never let you leave too far from me, I’ll stay close behind you in this world;
Secretly protecting what is mine, you will always be my girl.
I only want the best for you so the best of me I will employ.
Faithfully yours, I will always be your boy.

I close my eyes and kiss your soft sweet lips
And see the very best of you in loving bliss.
I see past the physical which makes you attractive
And focus on the things I can’t see in which I’m attracted.
Your thoughts I’d love to hear them all.
Of the things you speak disinterest never makes its call.

My day will come, I know someday I’ll be the only one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give, to love unconditionally.
Yes our day will come, I know someday we’ll be as one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give… to love unconditionally.

Copyright © Kristopher Higgs | Year Posted 2012

Details | Elegy |

An Elegy For Noah Tuckwell

As tears flow from my reddened eyes
I can see what I have purely missed
As I look up to the dark grey skies
I will always remember our first fist

I sit here and think of your face
The first time I saw your light fluffy cheeks
I always wanted to lay my head on that place
Even when I was buried in my girlfriend’s twin peaks.

You never knew my love for you
I waited until it was too late
I often yearned for a way through
Both your heart and your front gate.

But now you’ve passed away
Slipped through my limp and lifeless fingers
But I still yearn for that fortuitous day
And the smell of your tobacco colour coat still lingers.

As I stare at my homage dedicated to you
I can feel a heart shaped hole called ‘Noah’
My body is conflicted, I don’t know what to do
It’s such a shame that you were found in pieces underneath a lawnmower.

So many holes, and opportunities now
I feel my body grow harder
For you Noah would only allow 
One hole to be ventured in farther 

As you led there erotically 
on the grass that day
with your legs so lovely 
I couldn’t take my eyes away

So I didn’t see 
The lawnmower draw near
The blades running free
And beginning to career

Ever closer to your toes
To impoverish your heart
I’m the only one who knows
How a love like this does start 

To think I won’t see you again
Striding majestically down the Bath Road
And, protecting your shoulders from the rain
Your little tobacco coloured coat

I wish I had been able to say 
All this to you when you were alive
I came so close once, that fateful day
When we were standing outside the Beehive

Your hair was golden in the glow 
Of the solitary standing streetlamp
Yet still, you couldn’t ever know 
My feeling for you or my heart would cramp

And now you’re dead you selfish thing
You’ll never hear me speak these thoughts
You’ll never feel me ‘flap my wings’
Or ogle me as I cavort

But now you’re in the ground
In the darkness and despair
But I have now created a mound
Where I can collect your hair

My heart is soaked in liquid salt 
My clothes cling to my body
Although I know that it’s no-one fault
Staring at you was my favourite hobby

Now it’s time to say goodbye
My lovely little pet
My heart still yearns, my eyes still cry 
Although we never met

Copyright © Poetry Aircraft Carrier B | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet |


Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?

Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.

And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.

I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep. 

Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.

And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.

Copyright © Kristopher Higgs | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Return Of Your King

Reflections of imperfections have shown me a way that I can move mountains through my power of faith even though I can't see him I know he is real through the power of prayer and a Love that I feel It's growing inside me like a flower in bloom shall I reveal my powers or is it too soon I am reading the signs through my darkness I find a reason for belief in the light of mankind that I know shall overcome the greatest of odds the Love I seek amazes me especially through the flaws because now I am inspired through the hero's that bring my throne through the darkness on which I return on as your King.

Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

The Righteousness Of Love

Love is a wonder shared by one another it's the only reason I'm not six feet under Love in which I believe in a will to sustain I give back to life, now in dormant states of pain The power of Love may not alone be enough locked inside my dreams escape only from above higher than any human being has ever gone before I must have evolved rise above hate, great once more My Father taught me wisdom I am imprisoned no longer now an beast not of burden I am no lion, I am stronger on my shoulder sits twin dragons long awaiting the day evil forces come forth to take what Love is left, away A Hero of Love light are what the world needs angels, not demons exist where ever you believe follow your heart's direction and you shall achieve objects of affection rid of materialistic greed My bright energy has awakened to a fire never consuming the source as the flames just grow higher that is the desire of a product we call Love Fear, the counterpart what I was once made of I am slowly learning how to win when my peace is harder to sharpen so I have given my pen leave the sword has its uses I must say I believe to vanquish the evil in the minds too diseased to serve any purpose except their own selfish ones tomorrow a new day in the clarity of the sun where we two are now one and one done now does bring about a great change lit by the righteousness of Love.

Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric |



                             The Apple PASTURE

Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture.
Were once was and all well meet.
A pure and dear site.
Where silver reflection cover the still waters that holds the golden
grains of morality and the grazing souls lie young amounce no stars.
Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture
Were winds smell of melon and the trees whisper spring corals in the mellow dark and best of light and time creeps into no tomorrow.


Copyright © JAY JOHNSON | Year Posted 2011

Details | Bio |


What is Layag Sug? 
How come you're not answering?
Why are you asking?
For me to know
Why, isn’t it a bully to me?
No. I'm just plainly asking.
Why is it so hard for you to answer?
I don’t know why the question arises now.
I suddenly realize I don't know the meaning of it.
Aha for you what is it?
What is Layag Sug?
Is it a signature to every statement you make? 
Or a line you share with someone?
Being a signature to every statement 
It is also a line to share to make Sulu familiar with people today
So what is Layag Sug?
What do you think?
I don't know a Sulu boat?
What do you think?
You can share what it is so we could explore
I will give you my meaning
After you give interpretation
You're not answering are you?
Just say so if you're not
I don't have the entire night waiting
Layag Sug is about my life
Longing for the independence of beloved homeland Sulu
Literally Sulu Sail!
That’s Layag Sug seen through my lens of thought
And my experience in life!

A poem made to explain the meaning of Layag Sug through the question of Sulu Gypsy. 12:44AM, 9 March 2013, Sandakan, Sabah, Malaysia. Let Us All Save Peace. Layag Sug!

Copyright © Neldy Jolo | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |

tropical topical

Taming a tropical topical tree? Taking a trunk? Telling a tailor? Traversing a tale? Many ideas. Much like the ideological dramas of a beach front. Wavelength of winds. Movements if the tides. Coconuts can jump very high if wearing leotards but leotards are prohibited at various times during the year. It is quite impossible to count the exotic blooms that line up. Waiting wanting wishing. And the deity of a cactus can chant to tunes arriving from the sand piles. Dust dog. Digging. Whoosh warming wands. And a scent of a papaya in a fridge. Now that is all rather entertaining and remarkable for the long tailed fish whose darts prove to the leopard print turtle that it is very likely that a radiant radius forms from a watery weaving display. But jousting with a pineapple is not as fantastic as utilising a giant bee bush. Large leaves linking lanterns. And the aardvark grin. Heat from a ruin is a robed friend. Fiends are denied access by the calling cards. And the turban of souls spoke. Heed. Have. Heavens. Heaping. A morning mist is neither not a mood or a moon. And why buffalo wings and not pork wings? Why not pork wings? Operatic oink in a tropically scented garden. Seated. Or flying around and around. Then returning and eating apple pie. Stanza eighty nine is akin to a fine wine. A fabulous line. But a fabled monkey can be equalled to a nine foot serpent rising slowly from a wall. A mosaic deity. A wisdom. A pocket of chairs. Spin then. Aromatic cutlet smiling. Cover in liquids squirted from the appropriate discussion. And a rampant distortion of a small amount of energy. Save not a slug. Stamp not on a boating shrew. And spring over the jungle fauna with leaps of over forty two miles an hour. Sixty eight minutes of marvellous encounters. With unheard of animals,trees, and landscapes. The maka maka people are custodians of a channel and guardians of the tall blue beings. Shrouded in a misted canopy. High up. In caverns. Pictorial cues and evidence. Shrouds. Circuses are not allowed. Red read riots. And a dome cake arriving. Haha haha and a tall man waving. Haha and a juice dancing with a cloth. Haha beetle eyes in a pattern sewing blankets for the spotted frogs. Swirling stag staged. Melon elocution. And a little girl with a dramatic performance of a single page. Documentations in a dog bowl. Tropical topical trailers talking travelling trips. The radius of a forest floor is measured by twigs. And so the planet can be seen from a clearing. Oh good. Washing a flamingo is best done by a lake. And a frightened patterned peacock prancing can be placated by song, dance and rhythm. Such is the blossoming bloom of an official secrets act. 19 52. And an oceanographic octagonal office does not laugh or wave. It is to be said that mysterious snails of over two hundred feet in diameter can rise to meet the criteria of a successful businessman who has no meaning. And so the leaping ornate orchids can smile in appreciation. Swamps are really not that ideal for a morning swim. Haha goon gong. Xxxx beastiology. ANZ X.

Copyright © Taoi Chanan | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ballad |


Bad thoughts, self pity, self harm, it may seem harmless to you, but its not the answer to subdue your inner pain deep inside you.

To practice self love, true inner peace, is to be thankful for your God given gifts, you smile from inside out, to bring peace to others, when they around you are filled with darkness and doubt.

The image you see with your eyes is not the true scenery that really counts, for its always starts within deep in your heart. Actions speak louder than words. Show your true peace, beauty with only your arms and hands.

Practice Ahimsa, speak with the tongue, only of true love, for all living things and beings on this earth. Let us be neighbors, friends, what a peaceful wish to dream about, if you try looking at the heart, and not with your mind, for beauty within has no disguise..

Copyright © Jennifer Donnay | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

Never So Gracious

A full moon night to my delight what is so wrong with doing what's right nothing is right after so long no use in complaining time to move on The Dream Water one day might take me away farther from the comfort of familiarity I float on my back then shut my eyes my body now sinking into ocean arms open wide Now swallow your son back to his nature when he is no longer needed to stay here the next generation are dooming themselves they need my experience to guide them through hell Why should I bother on my own, I strive through I turn my back on the thought of bothering to save you alone in this world my, is it spacious I'm finally smiling, never so gracious.

Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

The Magik Of Love

Reflections in the mirror were getting scary I could not carry the weight of my pain it almost took my life to learn to love again for I have made a friend somewhere along my long lost way I hope that I helped him just a fraction of how he helped me maybe that single thought is what finally gave me my peace enough to release so much stolen energy Now I am not afraid to walk where the streets are hot for I thrive in Hell's kitchen where the devil stirs my pot for I now have him quiet tame I sacrificed my dragons at the alter of my name and now you are my slaves any time I need I'll call upon my superhero's to come and rescue me like my Saint Toni who swept me off that bridge and showed my how a death can be the greatest reason to live for she was the seed to grow my Eden then a man from a foreign land gave me something in myself to believe in the magik of Love.

Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet |

The Room Of Study

To sit in the confines of knowledge
At a desk the colour of porridge

An air of unescapable heat
At a desk the colour of wheat

The lure of the Mail Online
At a desk the colour of brine

Looking at Jamie Kirby's broken leg
At a desk the colour of regret

Copyright © Tom Hyam | Year Posted 2013

Details | Acrostic |

The Ramped Heavens

Kashmir is the heaven as they say
And from years i have been watching deaths at the bay.
Some come with metals,some burn the petals
Here you are safer only if you stay dumb
My words are not enough to bring up the sun as,
I have been living like in hell
Rest in peace  -- and i believe one-day they ALL will FELL.--.

Copyright © KAMRAN RASHID | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

The Maker Of Miracles

I am the maker of miracles a real spiritual man waltzing through shadows as they pull me back in I know I must escape them any way I can I know the way out like the back of my hand It's just me and the maker together, he and I I told you God is in me you just thought I was high talking with the Zeta's they tell me just why everything has an ending and the old me, must die I'm Calm as a bomb in the eyes of a storm they stare upon me as if I've been warned turn me inside out as a goodness is born I wear my battle scars so stars know I'm war torn When the gift of life is freed from inside the fire starts fading then the anger subsides like the great phoenix, I go back in time a miracle is born and now that I'm revived in my new life, I shine.

Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ballad |

Fraternity And Sorority Row Ooh Lah Lah

Poetic Lyrics By Thomas Lam Hsi

SAVE FROM Satan...who plays 'all' roles...the devil...the 'Lord Jesus'...
the 'Father'...the 'Holy Spirit'...all 'Other Gods'...and 'alien gods'...HE...THE
IS THE ONLY WAY TO GOD THE FATHER...and to an Actual Heaven!

Plane ride out...tonight...air...seems too...stiff...comfy...Miss?

Eddy...'goina...miss 'ya...well...seems...kinda sad...but...miss?

Lord...what...the F...class past noon...sunset in...a pool!

Dear...oh well...close this 'ol...journal...the best...in all...the school!

Soap...and...shave...buff's...to tight...one...ninety...it's...a start!

Dorm's...a start...but...classes...and notes...cute as darts...a really...cool tart!

Clothes...just right...new...hose and shoes...hair and  face...perfect!

The Row...burgers 'n cheese...yogurt 'n cheese...the bike...the look...perfect!

The roar...the crowd...the lights...the band...the score...All-American...school!

The life...the school...a new...chapter...really...movies 'n dates...way-to-cool!

Frats...'n sororities...way-to-cool...dorm's a...start...grades 'n scores...huh?

University...of...Ooh Lah Lah...oh...'ya...'sis...'bro...gotta go...Money for...huh?

Beamers...and 'Vettes...Porches...used...oh well...paper's old...school's...way-

Classes 'n schools...lights and rooms...back or front...proff's too...old...or too cool!

Mom...and Dad...will...I cost too much...day'll come...I'll make...you proud...you'll

Frats...and sororities...lights 'n sounds...crowds 'n roars...the cheers...the beers...

Forever...you and me!

Copyright © Thomas Hsi | Year Posted 2014

Details | Chant Royal |

being the only leg

I feel like a leg
nothing but a leg
no one cares
i am stepped on
and walked on
and forgotten 
love me
love me like a leg

Copyright © SPPEDY LEG | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |

Find the best holiday and drink tea

A fairyland fable is a magic table floating around but nit with a rallying cry. That is purely reserved for several synchronised cruise ships whose sunbathing missions thwart many a delivery driver. It is with great interest that an interest is neither a monetary aim at a bank or an inked out financial score singing a palate of possibilities. So go call the cat then. Go on. Meow meow. Dinner time. There you go. Fresh tuna is very scared now. Oh dear. And all the little flakes hard at work minced flesh in factories never really has a rest does it? Dilapidated dog during digging. And a great big wish from a ten thousand kilo cake is a celebrated glow in an outer solar sphere. Clap them all. Many cakes many spheres. Loud claps. And shouting at the mail is equivalent to eating beans on toast at several hundred miles an hour upside down in a bucket. It is in many weathers that a tall lanky snail circles a circuit in a rally car. Very very fast. Well done. There is a crown and a bursting champagne bottle whose antics on the plane were quite rude and non productive. However showering the podium with released bubble is quite a feat of engineering and requires precision mathematics too. So never ever become intoxicated if holding a compass, a text book, six lined sheets of paper, ten pencils and an organic cheeseburger with salad. Marketing making money moguls merry. And the swimming curry is out for the day in the lake occasionally resting on a Papadopoulos papadum boat who whips a papaya to create a cocktail. How rather quaint that is isn't it? How many radiuses are there in a pear? And how many tents can be made from a single pair of tights? These are highly significant questions to ask at a time when the antipepiscides are at the protest. Rioting. And tootling along the lane came a little green car whose plan was ever only to drink copious amounts of tea at the inn of then. Saviour not a sanctified secretion of a sweet set of stagnant striped silk. And enter no password of hi dee hi on a billboard for frames are allowing much to pass by over the cliffs. So watch out if carrying ten cars, a wobbly bus, and a twelfth century castle for it is the marksman who are marking a book from a diocese, a school and a university of agha banks. Couple that then. Great. Hahaha fantasy fig floating around hahaha banana bandana bringing bee balancing. Xxxxx metropolitans z

Copyright © Taoi Chanan | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |

Non teter les enfants de la mer

Poème poète égyptien : Abdel Latif Moubarak

Traduction: Nuran Hourani


Votre terre;

Te jette.

sur l'aile d'un poème; tu repose

Peut etre ; ne pas égarer  de vous laisser tomber ...

Pays;  sur la porte de l'enfer même si elle semble

Quitte le !

Non bascule le tronc anti-paume

Parce qu'il tombe une datte dans votre main

promesses humides à ondulent Mer

Murmure  lui ...

La solidarite  psychologie de la situation.... peut-être

Pour vous tuer ...

votre terre

Te jette

assez arabisme Pas plus émis

Pour te nourir

Rêve flanqué plus sombre

Entre les frontières nocturnes

L'emigration a satisfait contente

L'aube de la douleur sera noir

Et vous qui

Je prends de la main de sainte

Cinder retenue taupe qui

Ne vous laisser tomber

Tu assoie de bon voisinage de ton ame

Et tu brulle

Ce que je vous souhaite la prédestination

Comme si elles étaient des bonbons, qui

Oh ; mon fils :elle tombe

De votre bouche

Le mer ; jamais nourrit ses enfants

Mon amour va dormir

Il est le paradis de la plus haute immortalisée

Un faut miel

Nous sentons comme un tembau qui a enquêté sur les occupants

Et la grossesse charge cache dans les lèvres

Une chanson de mélancolie d'enfance

Dors mon bien-aimé

Il est plus dans l'histoire

Est reconnu coupable d'innocence

Ou demande

C'est ca la miserable état

Non téter les enfants de la mer

comment if ya can,

Copyright © Abdel latif Moubarak | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |


Trumpeting cauliflowers never blow eggs backwards onto a postal stamp. So never kick a cabbage to a kerb. Oh watch now. All drive safely. Harmonics in a queue are indestructible and indescribable too. Oh counting. Fun fun fun but not for an atom. They prefer to whizz around a jug. Or a used dish. Or a mop bucket. Take no acetic crow to a crown party. For feathers fly as the dresses are announced and who wishes to swim in thick tar or oil anyway. No a pointing stick says. That is quite right. And rights are righteous and righteousness is a right-angled visionary visualising rhombic robot. Dare to argue with GHQ? Or something that is said that is not paths? Tread light. Upon the grounds of carpets. Carpets carry carnivorous carnage. And a douchebag in a suit is neither a swimming whale nor a wallaby. Ok then. Good. Fantastic news for all who attend the operatic antics of the wardrobe sheaths.hahaha pickled melon meeting pickled lime. Hahaha leotard lion leapt. Hahaha swordfish sampling sailing seas. Xxxx Constantinople z. That was the p y q reporting in the afternoon from the aerial perspective of the debate about that apple pie. Z

Copyright © Taoi Chanan | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |

Heron gerentolgy

heron gerontology c y v b q zzzz!|~|~|~|~|~|~|>
A meeting of pineapples is a foray of intergalactic integral faith movements but writhing around on sea horses is not a wise idea for a beeswax candle. Swarm a plenty is a swarm a many but a money plant is neither a correctional facility nor is I a bud of buffet. Ears are deemed most important in cellular construction yet answering a telephone in a left angled triangle is beat left to a small rhombus in a shirt who is arriving with the plates of cakes at approximately ten forty nine. Disgust, mistrust and a non sealable bust can rust and opuses originally originate from orange organically incorrect information. But the true purpose of a lion is not to roar it is to purr sweetly. And ironing grasses and trees is just plain vandalism. Occur not an ocular ovulating ovarian? In a misted ten metre fishing lake. Breathe then branch. Bake then bend. Nineteen bees coming now. In high heels and mini skirts. Oh tulip variety in a fabulously expensive show. Of lavishness. But slobbed out circumferences of a very tired cup can be said to have the most idle of days refilling. General ladle parade then. Hahaha laugh at the library hahaha bean legged pants hahahaha and now leap forty two avenues in twenty breaths of a pool. Xxxxx generalisation. Z that was the p y q reporting from the makers of the debate about the house of the first two letters of the alphabet. Z

Copyright © Taoi Chanan | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |

aromatic antics

One mean footed man said to another "where are the swan cakes?". To which the right angled man replied "I ate them. I ate them. I own them all. I ate them." Passing from behind came rustling then this was ceased with a bang. Fifteen feathers came hurtling through at the men. And two beaks hit them. As sharp as arrows. They fell in the stream. Swept away. Far away. For the tides of existence are exact. And the honour of nature more honourable. So speak the leaf on a sunny day. Question not an irate toad driving a black land rover. Sailing sweeping swept singing salty spitting slitting spliced spicy spews speedily. Aromatics x

Copyright © Taoi Chanan | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |

Is it a mountainous moo

The keys to a duck monument are timely hidden by an egg basket. Egg baskets can play marvellous games of ball in the high season when the brilliance of the sun passes through the earthenware titles like a mist above an ocean. How rather ravishing it is to witness the race of the sea lions, walruses, jellyfish, and urchins. Cruising in their cars. Around and around. High spinning waves attracting the whale commentators and commentators are neither comical, comedians, clowns, nor are they clapping clams. Ok then. Now who is up for a round of golf with the teapots and cups. They are excellent players when filled. But not spilled. Who could fail to be mesmerised by the yearly subscription to a tannin magazine but magazines are not moving moronic macaroni neither are they are fabulous catch after a day sea fishing or coarse angling. In fact they are akin to a bin or a halo of flipping flapping flies circling a giant heifer pile of excrement. Now that is not a wow to make a jam. Jams are not smiling today as they want to play hula hoops or hopscotch in their jars. Jars jamming jetting jingles justly. And the might of a king prawn leaps over two thousand feet to alight a throne on a plate. At noon. But not at dusk. For at dusk the tins of tuna come waddling out of the cupboard and give a dance lesson to the salad bowls. So that is it really said the work surface. Become basin like in ideological wisdom wit. For without is whipping and whipping is wanton wading wafting writhing waiting wallabies. Hahaha dome of a table arch looking at a placemat. Hahaha inkwell smelling a posh pansy posy. Xxxxxx nautical miles of a pan of liquid turnip. Turning. Xxxxx Cumbernauld chop. Xxxxx anthropological z z z z z

Copyright © Taoi Chanan | Year Posted 2017