Tag: loud

Kettle Bell

Looking into the gloom in an amusing and songwriting kind of typecast need to presently go about the ruins of this late war. Without fatuous displays make good on my coventry and in God’s good service, try to at least, to bring about weal in earning my wage. If this need to attest, to query, to make good on promises and petitions. And the descritory confluency of ramshackle husbandmen speaking of womins and lambs. Also Clara, and Elsy and Bessy, and May.

That the fielding of ryeman and crossbearer go passable into the drink and are reliable beholding unto the pools of a shoreline ocean at low tide. Good enough to collect supplicant realities of the rolling sands and the cut loose bottoms. With currents of the old whaleroad coming to bouts. Drawn upon the sea from the outlet of rivers worldwide and deluvian in their release to the high spirits. Clowning the rafts and jambs in their escapement of fealty unto the campus of those broad waters.

A crow’s harbour of the woeful and right to pity. A last ditch effort to get up to snuff in the lackaday and upright and relieve the hoveled and the pinched. With the nuance of charming clatter and the charge of a hospitible drum. Hoops and solace in the turning gait of independents’ that quivels and spits, burns out and fiercely requits the display of teeth.

With every other semblance to the reel strayed out to a glen of the fielding career. The gear and the Wright’s foot. A kings’ ransom for the fearing of civility. The goat’s head soup of a cavalier and assuming despondency. How it clears the roof and supports the filch for his carrolus innurement of medicinal blends and denatured tinctures.

A breadth of cover inclement to the diaspora of run down streets. The emblazoned recalcitrant, a stuffed goose of the bonnie pike. How now brown cow. Where does your garten frail its picts? Are the wicked and parsimonious the same flagrants of repasse as the rioter and his ill acquainted dogs. Not to die outright but within the guise of the earthly church. That sovereign empowered in the creature beats and elemental scions of the dutiful and fruited.

Surrendering to the clandestine hinterland of subjugated viands of green. As if the running down of burr and tawn. Where in the sidereal cogent of placer rhymes and cordial assays makes good on the all to often henpecking of dispassionate qualms and painted glare of a south going mystic.

The book gets thrown. The laurel crown it falls along with the thorny and them gone up and died. Only the ivy seems to understand the apparent lack of penchant honesty in the tooth gnarled pugh and quarrelous hangers on. If you don’t know then you are a lying fool. Got no real need to identify with any other than the devil and his Satan stick. Always in repair and high tallying to the tune of ignorance too toward earth-centric consistency. A regularus mood disparity amongst the locus of illegitimate sinners. At taught with the steal of the official broken plate diners. Without, the gone mayers just continue to place their jimmy the crow spinners and say I me mine you stupid farce of Witchhazel and blazing beginners. When the lie ties off it is at the betrayal of its persuasion. Not too many freakshow winners left to bring in papa his review of the wicked kempt treats.

No most of those people wound up kicking themselves in the head before they could get out of the way of the mess they were bringing. Eh? What’s that? No repulse for your thoroughfare. But I thought you were assuaged in your horrendous reprieve. Don’t tell me your back here for being such a complete pain in ass was all over again. Well the sickness of disease does enjoy the voluntary slave. Much booty to go to their bouts with chainsaws and watchers and in short order bring on the remove of the shrubbery. From its reminder, from its satiety, from its mien.

Cakewalk Into Town

When I am asked whether or not I would give it a whirl. If I am willing to see it all turn the way around. If I wish to go for a ride or even at best when asked if I would simply like to get lucky. Well then all to often I either put my foot in my mouth or I wind up attempting to dig my own grave. And if I do so happen to survive withal and whetherwhicheven if a bit. It is by the skin of my teeth and by the seat of my pants.

What breakneck pace, what surreal reel, what inclination to perceive that the rather well known means to get up there with the crow and bang the drum of emancipation is a skit-like and apprehensive means of setting back the derigors. A quaint psalter of the dipstyche and baited moot. Within the merited condition of respectus. A glimmer from the sidereal campus of the adept consanguaine.

By the time my switzer gets washed of its fleecies. When the olde lady says chillin’s is at even by the werted cloe and malarky drempt of steadfast steam. In the baring of hearts. In an unindation of storm. Who now trades in the weather fly a vane of the contented brave of wishes. The young in their wise. Somebody’s day longing idalyc friend.

As I see it the best ingredient in a good recipe must acquaint the work ethic with the memory of sustinance behind a curly red bow. If she is to continue in the regard for the fleet footed horseplay of dinosaurs then the same digest should be of no less an easement into conscious toils of starpup and reinder dog.

While the hours wreck less anymore than they used. There is still the gladfreaks and goodfellows of the patronage and ship for the new song in the way of the commons. The peacetide of the righteous sound clave horn. As the gridlock of deepwoods fat is left in the breathy den of the warrior numer of a bear.

When deep sea locks on honeypots frugally embark toward that furthest shore. As if there were only the turning of an heartbeat upon the ocean. From the upward gaze at the sun ‘neath the calm and sufficient home of the prognostics and precarious similes of the latest let it all hang out bearers of the local accumulation of tropes.

An entity of the Cultus persuasion. The Hokum and the pleasant. The fraught no longer and neither disparaged. Into the depth of field fit for release and quintessentially bound for higher ground.

What amounts to the cascading foreplay of falling light. Upon the grass, upon the trees, into most any nook and cranny that could exist prayerfully and also mindful of the entertainment crawling with the board. That sometimes we are less well in looking to close at an image of relation when there seems to exhibit the foundling response to stimulus as it quenches both repose and thirst.

There must come to pass as well the exuberance to take on an urgency of consequence to fare the call to repasse. In later days upon further stategems of the conscious meld of a flourishing setti of the galavant crewe. The meagre knows moor. What have you! But the question as to how there be by the memory of recall some guise of frequents into the Astra, the almond, and the palmade.

The gregarious walk and the infidel squawks. The few that remind to see the recourse are the burden of a cradled dew. Advance and come afore the bee anglers back from their remove. So to choose to let be at their peace what school the constitutional menanders of a revolutionary queue.

Ride out singing of the Imago and the mundi. The great remembered jaugernaut flummoxing it’s weal. Jingly jangly nervousa ricktodd through the paseos of a forested canopy floor. The wild and rambunctious rag a tag systems of the quartered and the fancy free. Out and about in the jack of all trades consistency of a driver path tread on.

To reach without wrechedness. Both the elaborate and the sinclair. A ropes and pulley means to make hoisted foisted seas of the last cannery in the row. To appease, to endure of the turning of hellish gate and evicera. To stake no more claim to the destined number of outstanding fete.

Church due where there occur the intranscience of simpletons seeking rhyme. To say yes to the landlubber and the seafaring and bridge the gap out avast between what lies hither, or thither and even fur and yon.

The last balast to make out for throw and guide. Entreating a lofty sarcasm up into the clowering fledge of the sacrosanct denizens. Conferring in their idles of the presumed after spinners’ cup for fits. Across the bow and maxing out upon the barometer. Clemency of all but the most fleeting of acrid bane wastrel bale and face and menagerie.

No more recalcitrant hammers of the gamey witch to have make glowwer or scole. Seize what momentum have you to accomplish in order to make right your path and escape the flagrant apostates in the aura and scene of a towbar and a driven casement of nails. Surfieted Interlopers of nothing doing.

Rusted now and begging the question over whether or not the day had its acclaim. The night will have it’s treetop. The next dawn will come with an air. The story, the song, the dance will settle and score and soon enough find its rest concurrent in the pottage of miller and truck. Swaggers and Sterno cans. Satisfaction and bliss