A language written is not so different
From the kind that is spoken,
Determining the fates of
Entire evenings
Crumbling decades of sayings
And humble buildings.
Accents you hear, swell and prevail
As you might expect
Flowers, to see, to smell,
Above a dinner table.
The first impact , you hear,
Says YES
As if the word is dry and hayish.
The second says YES
As if a moisture has managed to reform it
Back to a touch,
A beaded
And leafy
And lowly caress.
Mickster's Annual Christmas Funhouse
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