Your My Southern Dream Poem by James McLain

Returning to the house she opens the door,
so widely, and still keeps pace of the rising sun
without being late to you,
and being attached, keeps as you.
You look at the squirels of our youth.
Whom too me it is new and finds in the play,
the cheek of the hers stuffed.
Sufficiently both of them, heavy, filled with nuts
when dancing the dance on top of the tree each day.
Even so, the leaves come and dance by the top
and bottom of the tree made of wood.
While the night comes excessively, directly,
as for the new white month;
Is it sufficiently bright i ask of it permission, - Your my dream,
sufficiently, i remain familial as ever..and always!