Buds And Bells Poem by James McLain

James McLain

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By

Buds And Bells



Play doctors house and buds and bells when sucking candy stripes.
Greek fantasy hospital house of his, her wildest dreams.
Coming home to clear the window that turns upon her knee.
Some helping those whom try to walk but never when it coughs.
Wherever there is joy within the comets tail muffin tops, milk home.
Likein it within I melteth and you bubble out of reach.
Thus is sweet the joy, each dropp of rain and never speaking when it is.
Thus it is when then to you one wanders in and out about this fantasy.
Come flying when it opened flew and still exceeds her open arms french doors.
Looking I to she permits with thought how it expands.
Open minds' closed tightly wide are they when wise?
Doors inside of doors and She is' squeezing arrows out,
and cloudward of it from I rise against her Sun I rise.
Fantasy of the pink sripped candy of a loosely fitting O!
Her open blouse is loose,
and I like time that leaves when green it shows permit.
Summer' hot The joy that she becomes growing wild and useless
depending upon when illy used, and the spring as it unfolds.
Enjoying it opening the way, Autumn' full Red lipp's.
The Fruitage of the mighty devils D,
and passing by the fog and dew, when you blush, tasting of it is:
Something buzzing then?
In or out, up and down all around the tree the limb you climb upon.
To watch me pee.
The time when right, sit a spell slide down on thee, with it tingles.
It is bright, cold it burns, winter's Mind; it marches on.
Night; When soundless the earth is covered, she explodes
and as for the heavy snow by which is neatly set.
The ploughboy' she has by her hand is mixed.
Empty; spoon whose bag is always heavy O so heavy.
Full of rye and catcher seed.
All buds and bells and dewy morn of May.
Running from the spray where it is sprayed.
Autumn' where everything is wise accumulated.
The wealth of us, and using, still, I am.
Mysterious it is hiding:
Not from you, when you decide to come then come and ask.
As for her like three Ruby wines of glasses mixed which love mixes.
Kissed these joys, and quaff that of you must now shalt.
Your shalt I waer but you I hear the distant harvest clearly.
Rustled corn the silk you move aside and it is sweet.

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James McLain

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By
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