under slumber, among the first, of a summers rainy eve. 'tis the drizzle to the ground, a trickling breeze, to bring the down, but louder is silence between each flicker and emanate alliance, of echoing thunder, echoing softly till a trickling breeze and the last rain drops, on thankful leaves, please, whispers in the breeze, come in further, chimes the cymbal trees, the grass shrugs, its frazzled hulls ripple and sway adrift some inanimate ocean, passing vibrantly, through each gazing sip and the shaft of each grass seed, a spear cast up, to be heard, from the rumble of the gates down below,out in the elements one can truly wonder, the roar of the open air, greets with a familiarity, a chilly hug to the very bone, patty-pat, patty-pat presses the clouds, as if one or the other is a jellyfish, the mountain lights up with startled eyes, captivating my stare, her cleavage blushes.

im lost in admiration of an arrogant little rhyme, capitivated-ly forwards in dehydrated time, pasted the powdered likeness, of a gaping inferno in my mind, this image to large to swallow lays lodged within my soul, shedding screaming pitches of deafening mad flashes and moves motionless to each heaves toll, im an illusion washed ashore in a conch-ubine shell, i rape with my eyes, can steal innocents through thought and smell, prickly little words arranged such in a truth, they do not make me feel, "what", is NOT to fear, as each drifts apart drowning-ly, adventuring proof