Upon the sweetest flowers of the fields
Where she grows her young
And drunkard darkness flees at her fiery wheels
Merchants of victorian memoirs at her plunged shore feedeth
Not rudderless princes like a drunkard reels
It seems opulent winces she glances upon And hangs upon them the sweet roses of victorian hills
Discretion too grandiose for ignorance to ignore,for environment too vile
To shoot golden morn with the crows of
the cockcrow.
So pyrrhic a victory in their loins obstreperous winds to die a violent death
To lie in the benediction of passing darkness
A Titan's day behind the woods and woodland beaten comeuppance.
Earth wobbling stars pave way for the mightiest princes
Wavering buds closefisted away to heavenshore
Cupids sell themselves potion to get to victorian hills.
That many books they shall read before main book
The Forrest bamboo that unfolds the beautiful story
In Golden gorge, golden clasps unveils the golden story
Only one beautiful story unfolds at a time
How much more for the golden story
That knocks a beautiful dawn once in a Millennium.
Arise feeble princes peck and behold the fair sun for the fair yima
The mantle of desideratum doth in his passion-broth spring
Thanks to its golden bars, unknown dreams retrieved
From dreary earth locks into empyrean heights
Bestrides the sullen drudgery clouds
And sails upon sweet leaves green fields
Above grey eyed dusk carts the golden morn
Galloping paces above vagabond sloths
Refutes quiters'slosh and plainants'goof
Despicable pilots mouse hunts,countqueans , salacious mandrag
oras, libidinous mandrakes frolicking dancing Madonna, wolfish ravening serpentine serpenthood draining topgallant flowery feet of gold
There dwelt no king in Babylon beyond king Cupid
To sewer his ectasy for victorian hills is alien to the good den
Merchants of memoirs by golden personages
Took to spouse,a fair mandrake
Not for the beauty of Helen of Troy
Carted away by Paris of Troy.
The very butcher of beautiful Dreamland
Beauty is not in the dream but thorns and twistles hidden therein landmines of gold.
Feeble princes jest at these scars
And Helens their merry queens to snob the beautiful dreams
O what a choking gall,a malignant spirit,to snob beautiful flowers, fairies'midwives for duncy Helens
And lo all the colours of rainbows bade goobye to havenshore
Victorian hills upon victorian valleys ,
Quite interesting
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