The Birthday Naomi I humbly baked pies,
Because some no... some poet.
Because even with my heavy hands
Sometimes breaks a little light
An old-fashioned anapest. The ring fell
In the wild grass with heavenly fingers,
Rocket flew a little up the intensity
The Asian heat. Starts with A V. it's not that.
Cherries were scarce. And peaches crop failure.
Sour apples cut into a cake.
I remember Naomi, Milton, the lost Paradise.,
Lost chances, broken foreheads threshold.
Disclaimer: I just found these in my library. I do not have the rights to them,
I just them and decided to share them with you.
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