You lay in the sun, oiled nice and fresh
near the water.
The tide is comming in, the little meals
are swimming, as fast as they can.
From Mr.Snookums.
Happy meals run for thier lives, along a
southern mangrove.
Not being ignorant, and having washed
in this before, the butterfly rests on your
tan breast, Exposed as well, in wonder!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
lovely nice scene poetry