TAUROMACHIAN EAGLES.PART 1

The sun had not pleaded eerily for the morose lawn and by the time,the > eliptical oval had lept with pang to beseech the berserk hours and > withdrawn its tantalus of tentacles,the lachrymal grief of morose > field,was imponderable had gone grey.Fresh variety make them all > blokes twisted bramble,all red and pale,as time's beguiling sport all > too dainty and crotchety smothered the encroaching thorns.A thousand > sweet kisses boldlypluck them lull yet still unapt to coy,blessed > coons at the nimbly coast.So soon as the morose sun was gone,pleading > his stupedous girth as he was restrained.And now lost to > fortitude,doth she remorse to avert the downpour not to suspend her > lips from the immaculates of sacrilegious fouls and stoop them dry.Now > impecable feet struts high and mighty a tauromachian matador of > mischievious blanket therein catapults the umbilical torero of golden > morn.Over his couser's rein of gusto impasse,dingy they flock to > camp,to masticate stratagem for netherstrike.The golden boy gliding > hid in trenches where