04/02/2014 7:26:35 AM Tuesday
© hewesufa It is d a f f o d i l s time What does the colour y e l l o w tell me rite now d a f f o d i l s The curtains in my den Butter Sun Eggyolk Nothing y e l l o w in a naked male body Nothing y e l l o w in a naked female body No y e l l o w tears are ever shed No y e l l o w snot is ever snotted A bad liver mite produce y e l l o w eye whites So the colour y e l l o w is xternal 1 has to watch if the colour y e l l o w shows up in dreams The emotion envy is said to be y e l l o w A song sinx about the y e l l o w submarine Time to go and find and purchase y e l l o w silken panties For the lover who comes tonite and will take it off For putting his something in to the something space inside In bella italia a criminal story is called …g i a l l o…because of the y e l l o w jacket the clever publishers used to catch the eye of probable murderers or sleuths or unsuspecting coactors at the scene of the crime Some real animals have y e l l o w eyes but I have never seen a globian have y e l l o w eyes Maybe the real aliens soon to come down from the skies will overwhelm us with their y e l l o w eyes 1 surfs the net and finz a po’m about y e l l o w d a f f o d i l s and here is the y e l l o w catch… William Wordsworth (1770-1850 / Cumberland / England) d a f f o d i l s I wandered lonely as a cloud that floaz on high o'er vales and hills, when all at once I saw a crowd, a host, of golden d a f f o d i l s; beside the lake, beneath the trees, fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine and twinkle on the milky way, they stretched in never-ending line along the margin of a bay: 10.000 saw I at a glance, tossing their heaz in spritly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A po’t could not but be gay, in such a jocund company: I gazed--and gazed--but little thout what wealth the show to me had brout: For oft, when on my couch I lie in vacant or in pensive mood, they flash upon that inward eye which is the bliss of solitude; and then my heart with pleasure fills, and dances with the d a f f o d i l s . thankU dear solitudinal mind of William Wordsworth hewesufa + digiloon...the bookler with the white gloves
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