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When I Chew The Lamb’s Ear

Stuck on Holiday #4 Days in beckon begin The distal one and near An early vice remains This, the forest of thy keep A special ray of untrue lies The Victory ghost when life was pure Of bent wire and war with water We Sundayed to the news And all of us together Fruitful limbs and nighted dew All that is seen at war is true And bits of caving in to the stellar

But one was a few And day 4 for the Claris hen Guilty of this row offshore A kitten made Stonehenge,- And we were involved

A price on sale for the drifting war Things to truly offer men Sympathy shores while the rain is new Backstabbed things and I was her

But afraid for the early joust I was stale that morning in brain And each extension casted Mir The likes of me could tell and see

And the raided few And seconds still A Victory from here- If I give you this poem My Chance is rain And you in the family My stubborn fall for the day I thought Caught to thinking I substitute And the day shelled For pensions of the Jupiter men Esteemed to know we are adrift Likely needing scissors- To stay the same in marigolds And watching death due to mining A Manhattan Man to participate The early frost is due And with sails we win A bright song and in verse To each below and being scraped The Nautilus won our war And was a nemesis, said Mercedes Wits of fashion and twice as fast To each small creature, ex-living And to go back to there reborn

And as such a few, made them smile We poke amends for timeless Dan In Inverness, a shaken land And what goes up, is through and through Fateful while alone And given into toys of a great renew I stopped the sand from freeing me The vacuumed war and saunter A shard at stand to see me preen The pale headlight And mercy in store to silence This is the Earth beget our dues A single penny for this isle No revolution In respect, The revolutionary And this poem is real And fought off war And railed against- the words again And every year, I share a clause We made Victory- Auld Lang Syne.