Cunning fingers

Beauty mindful of its own broken shell rose from its pantheon of golden pearls 

As green field's chief rose fairer than nature 's steed 

Woken with bright morning crows to pour accolades on the rising upland

Soft bottom creeps on hard bosom

Tender springs appealing and appalling at sweatening palms 

Burning eyes dart forth fire for the heavenly sun

Complexion of contentment chokes the impatient tongue 

As intendment struggles to please delightful pith

Above the enchiladas of the enchanting pits 

Damn pretty simple arraigns hollowed chin

Blurred in the scorn of daring ados at full toss of the open throttle 

Jelly sweet condiments creams on his gingerbread 

Heaven's sweet thunderstorm crushed the hollow wombs

Beyond modest pride reddish eyes scornfully glitters prickly spur

Fallen plume to forsake him fell the villainous throttle of the impuissant buttonhole 

Straitjacketed beams accede to the worst reprieve ever glide 

Outstripping survival for warped morning crows 

Bleached earth dust his paly cheeks emaciated gallows pole apart from barnyard paces astray 

Tender hands from the trickery of tender springs betray the beautiful spring 

Where dumb play trickster assume to dent the sullen rebuke 

Fairest combat in soft sighs cannot grimace not grime at the dastardly grit

Gentle boy so dumb stood at pall the traduce of his villainous girl 

The desperate colt dismissed his beautiful vows for gnomes with curio and cabbage

Bullish eyes cannot deny treachery to betray inward beauty

The wolf that raineth heavenly moisture doth gripe ere to the bark

And barks from the Alsatian dog refrain not the trauma of insensate psyche

Paly cheeks barely clap like beautiful minstrel for the yonder heights of beautiful spring 

Cunning fingers in the coyed lips cannot truly love the doting heart 

Doting reprieve cannot be earned forever abscond from the empathy of flowing rivers which often remember its headlong plunge

He cheers the morn as the bright sun chairs the beautiful sky

Piteous lips may not cure the sesame street of the vultures and the golden valley 

A thousand secrets not strangers to the ringing plumes of the mellon plum that doth fall for sticky green to elope random bile

Not even the Elysium to clip her joy of beautiful spring 

Painted grapes in surfeit blinded the tired eyes for the maw's pine

Cease not accolades where tis is due at frantic pace

Unsheathed tushes above bristly pikes whetted still in childhood memoirs foiled mortal brawn

Living sorrow long exit fainthearted gloss

Passage of alarming bells encrust to the morning crows 

To thrash nature 's malfeasance ,mishances of poisonous pestilence from 

Unsavory maladies

Long ago entry into the city of gold mindfully exit trauma of the civvy street 

Nescient of the ordeal of the sesame street 

How cunning fingers burn paly times

Mysterious cunning fingers crux of the golden pearls