💚

There Is Time For A Reason (Peter I Island)

Bless us Lord
We are done
And burned every drop
Played with Lego in cavities of Ester
I felt in fear of the digits to bedtime
Wished I’d asked for honour of Maine
There were soapstars and honest wheat
And play problems for the car
This vicious oil
For Tehran and the May of epithopean Peel
I was lost in beyondness
My bed was poly and chloride and resist
And I stared at the moon
It burned my hands and feet
The sky was that far up
Of the heat in my blouse
And private apprehensions of the day
We drops of seafoam to you
They drilled into weary
And the noise was collapsing my face
Way down in Churchill
For lethal falls
Noise
And Warren
I was lucky Swiss
And we had water
It flowed the fastest til ten
Because of the mowing
Each country pretended an amount
But yours was oil
They stole my phone and everyone’s house
And they split up in apathy
Til I fell down the stairs
And wrote unto Rome of my cares
Why to the fossil
It was unkept to the wind
The barrens of manna
Were taken to guild
I wept for the driveway laid bare
Everything squeezed
Til the time of the ears
And every car sat and guzzled the next one
Without no redemption
And six quarts per jet
They stayed and we won and I landed
My wingless aircraft
My body
And I set sail
To Stockholm from Portland
Covered in roses
I dated the prose of the jail
In beams of sun and tines
There was a lectern
And amounts for each day
Eyes to heaven
And repeating to grow
The treetops were leaning to Canada
Burning no lestness
And lakes at Vattenfall
Resisted the rod of the day
With papers to fill
And the end of the wheel
And a Roman recourse to unwind
And in Greenland
A shield for Lars
And his rabbit of Denmark that drifted
The sun kept of shone
Bequeath me the level
There is water to the hilltop of the moon
I am lucky as Peter
To have eyes for the dorsal
Thinking of gladhanding with me
What was a switch
To light up the mercy
And speak to the muse of the rail
For the cleaning of prose
For clouds of the proa
I am bent to a sixty force gale
Sight of the moon on an honest week on an island
With ponies who dream of the cast
And shores of Hal’s lantern
To bespoke of the water
They are drilling for Wheat
And not shale
Vladivostok, Taipei
A place of skills and merry Peter
Who looked at the glass
Of the honest remorse
To Singapore
Where I walked without carry
Of Romaness court
For the suing of vlad
I had two kids at the height of noon
The newest of water
Was the merciest of crime
And the robots fell into the harbour
The Sign
Do you know
The prophet Isaiah
And in Sweden we wash
Every aloe to return
To the desert of date palms and bread lily
Four early days
To be off to the blades
Of Hopskul and Skellefteå and Vision
To be travelling with emus
To be covered in bronze
To be glad
To be rid of this gale
Oil was upstanding
In Pitcairn
We got rid of cancer of the deep
And signed off to the Ross
And women of reprieve
To trespass to never prose shale
Trinidad was absolute
So we signed there
And saw how its house
And stopped eating muffins
Of plastic and coal
And breathed to the last of the gale
Earthen mud
Toulouse to the ray
For the Swiss canoe
And accepting The Body of Christ
With no apprehension
To stop up the fortress
The police were absconded to mail
I was you til I saw
What had done unto me
And Xinjiang had prowess of Rose
Where acceptance behappened
To Greenpeace at one
Whose redemption was democracy day
To uncover the absolute
To escape the bad day
To go in peace
To eat Bread
To end shale

For every drop of water-🧡💛💚🩵