The frayed knot. The dredging of the mud sotty lake wounded down stream. The weird and the riotus. How many cornacopias of the sailor can a purple feeler in his throes grift back to hop and dominion and the Sunshine state of mind.
Let it go at that. Sail on sailor. The undersea adventures of the mystery clan. A shapeshifted entranceum of fitting clemency. A long tow of the merry equippage out to the high seas. Past harbours test and the wharf heavy sorties of a jersey wearing crowd.
These tramps hocking off their Western dreams for the indigenous climes of a more sovereign country. No slave no lie. Let the reckoning show that breaking the law was neither of account or given to the lusts of any such state of the sundry fodders in the house of the lamb.
Those ticking tailors whom must hide their keys in the boxes under the tree. They are of no natural remit unto the standing constitution that did preclude its vanity in the way of any such untimely demise. We would rather honor our ranges with the figurative bond and the sympathetic maiden of the wood.
Nary so much magic for a hammer to put down the memories of our watchers. Noted superstition to carry the foolish infidels alack to their faithful bough. If the grade is of the proper cline then as well the big trees of the wood have their need for an honest witness rather.
And knights’ rank with concommitants of prizewinners will be judged sane. Then who chooses to bridle down the village in the name of an espirited garner of fish will have it with tack. Sounding sails in the maya gaining its reception gloriously at ease.
Glad to sleep at night or in the case of convention arriving at its just desserts. The room slows down the diurnal period from the exacting of works and exercise of routines. With a look out at the stars before closing the eyes to consciousness and a prayer in no uncertain terms the day ends.
Personal Writings 