Lisa Poem by James McLain
Lisa
Green miles smiles being.
Form is top to bottom.
Bottom of everything, meets frontal
when the bottom the world,
is pushing the upper off of every thing.
Sun shine kisses through such a face is a face
being transparent to the top of the button.
Around sings harmony of eggs is key.
Who has the use of those pearl buttons,
when pushed out too far to blue sea.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 6:14:58 PM # 1.0.0.1119
