Treetop Slave Poem by Brett James Dickinson
Treetop Slave
A Desserts' gritty shoulder, as to the beautiful gardens, is turned with prowess- a badge achieved by the man in black; prowl
The apple as to the sweet ocular virtues, grown in the backyard of a turtle, addicted to the green walls; are fertile and comfortable, but with the mark of a wimpish pig- Big placid Armour
Seek the night and you will weep.
Bliss
Monday, June 28, 2010
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5/6/2024 1:33:54 PM # 1.0.0.1119
