Emptied The 'Ocean A 'Dream' Poem by James McLain

Is it she;
The music can it be any more wildly excited.
Her or her song came why I come,
in order to listen too her each week it with you.
Her motion like you, I 'find', beautiful it' Is; of oneself you give
one wave each octive her I respectively,
She Broke; she breaks my soul and each one
and that place at the time of her whipping,
his soul inside it is falling,
too the hand of it she comes too, or, hears a sound,
each price each plucked which falls from the music
the poetry I find in her head which is sweet the sea.
Sees in deep my earnest desire,
he in where and which she is knowing,
until his knee bends to her music her words.
Knocking at the outside and his thing how it waves
and softly, felt him and the shore again meets the wave.
His vibrating a beautiful pulse will not be from the metal
and she will help him too make.
Song the voice which is pure is the possibility
and plausability which she can do.
Backwords it is visible and I, her deep future and sees.
The higher The office where the disaster can happen
without from which they stand.
She from the musical extra poetry prize and thus
which he is hers desperate,
extra prize and extra prize, and she is his general
in the straw bag and wicker basket location time and place
which made from her improvised
and the acoustic hill will be able to understand it,
' Song did you mean;
empty'Ocean a 'Dream' 'O', hungry sea.'

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w.b.y.