Where is the wind of the Whipper-will-The one of clawed down candy? ...
Where be it's drawn frowned brandy?
False starts of my beating heart...
Make only for undressed failings of man's own mini-mart.
Of hope regrets altered stay...
Bejest this joke this austered way.
Sandied dunes of man's arrival...
Preset to thought of man's denial.
Make-shift huts of unlived in adobe
heart and mind...
Wraps up choices into thinly layered words.
That tree of life learned lessons dangle gently in breezes enjoyed wholey by many nature's birds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So much going on here...imagework is awesome...Rock Solid crafting, my friend... FJR