Knighthood of the golden hills.part one

Give thy ear to everyone but borrowed not and lend not that which is learnt

To censure thy verdict maybe a costly tarnish to thy purse

Prejudices expressed in fancy clothes of gaudying clouds 

For the best buys and nines,oft proclaims the true machismo

And they in their generous station chief in mischief and vile in misfortune 

Neither a crevice nor  crimson forsooth 

For the cavalier oft chaste himself and otherworldly ounces 

And burnish creases the edge of the sheathed swords 

Swordsmen wrestling the crest for the golden hills 

Swordsmen wield their panache at his ordinands,

Swore never to annex tis his grail of writ unctions

Knights kneaded beyond knaves scuttled the seething waves 

Beneath him they strike stuck to the scalpel 

In panache he held his scabbard, receptacle, trenches'integument,not lowered,

Apparently pulling his cartridges,spathe , canister off the riverbank ,

As abominable snowman,yeti, sasquatch,rakshasa ,

O bigfoot from the sand dunes,lava bed , badlands, wilderness cramped to the shore,

Butyraceous, saponaceous sapplings, cringing verdure,at his loathe,

Not to demean the aesthetics of the flora,

The dough,grumpy grime,on the rat race poultice,sponge,sarocarp, triturate,pomace seem not yet solidifies to nail the carton,the sarcophagus,the funerary box 

At the pinebox and pinto of the golden valley .

Who flings away your angels of ambition and ambivalent salvation

For self mettle that tires thee with willful stillness of anger

To quash gravity of wisdom from unruly caste of profound conceit?

To ope broken tongues and it's broken troths that cannot bark 

And say nothing hellish to avarice with no ears in broken flights

The noble dog barks at the beggar in miserly beggardom,

Who has not creature of manifold parts 

To gloat and run from the cur?

Neither the cur nor the curlique ever dance the cupid dance 

At the lush of filthiest lucre o filthy lucre how filthiest thou are?

Could craft burnish at every pelting thunderstorm at merciful heaven?

Proud artifice above the gnarled oaks

Poignant noses with sulphurous bolt

With gloss of glassy essence,soft myrtle drest in scabbard of beautiful dreams 

Does the beauty of thy goodness maketh the heavens and the angels weep,

Who coat grace and hardihood with quirky complexions?

Then shallow and shallow shall thy benediction be undervalued 

Braggarts in vain sands rambling with the municipality of munches and much ado about nothing 

"These dreary foxes would not kill me"

Maximus had screamed bared his misgivings of the true companions 

Then they censure front loading calumny even as they lube in the back loading calumny 

Slanderous tongues on faint deeds condone knights of hollow goodness 

Where fain comfort spake to theft of empty pledges

This silken thread on a charmed aches agonized with words of broken tongues 

To fetter the moon shone on a waning candles 

Merchants of conscience in the enterprises of guilt, cowardice of all

Then he wears a golden happify at the blossom of golden valley 

The dress of dread of something after dread

Makest us bear fruit even though beyond the pitfalls and contraption of those pitches we have seen 

Than fly into arcane ground to read the epitaph of broken pitches and dilapidated dreams

How oft the sight of calumny tarnished the feet of the gods with miscarriages of broken dreams fallen on broken pitches 

To make grievous tales irreversible and irrevocable 

From the dungeon of recklessness and ruthlessness.

That hurts by easing the spendrift sighs 

Skin and film the delusions of ulcerous clangs,

Not the expedition to lay the faltering ego and egregious unction of the humbled soul

But that maximus leaps with golden palms for golden hills 

And that makes all the difference from the badlands to the river bank at abesi.

Alakazam of beautiful forest and aesthetic ornery awaits him in manor houses

Teach yourself wisdom that no accretion could outsport discretion 

When wherefore art thou been cabined,cribbed and cramped with saucy doubts and dread.

A surfeit of equivocation over the deepest loathings 

The stomach brings from boundless intemperance and intemperate ribs cracked

Before they re goaded with mysterious cannonballs 

Fired from the cannons of fading muskets 

The ragged cups of falsehood and delusions are full

We went berserk still ride in triumph where abject fortitude became the threatening eyes

Bidding farewell and farewell to the golden valley 

From the  arms of the Morpheus dancing gigolo 

Wedlock the archipelago of golden hills.

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