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Fundy Take pictures They are worth a beautiful year And winter’s night by Racecourse For early jets to be seen Why raccoons, Dad? For Taepodong They ended the North But by high Inkerman- Inkerman Ferry, to be exact They practiced a moon landing And all the Swiss radio lanterns came for the hearse Which was, in yesteryear, A thing of luxury, To behold at the first of the dawn And in half a year, Why dream of the embargo When we have Christmas in Hampton And cherry trees to remember

By each hackney, Layers, I may add Was a Sussex Volkswagen ready to depart For the Jupiter foul And Peter’s Hill To orbit the sun And pray for apprehension Of Taepodong, Which stopped

And Should I amount To be swearing at my own I boarded the Shuttle, While waiting for Jeremy Who told of a star Whose reunion was ours And we sat up by breakfast To be in our own Our flightsuits were barren And we flew only six days But by beamlight and Mars Was an interconnect of hers My Mom, Whose lantern was out Noticed a shadow Of green schism to red For Earthworks at Maine To be the stop of accounts

So we celebrated on time With our own basket of cards And sought early warning, And everyone won

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Upon that Spruce of Engineering Rothesay, There were times to be seen around The rain was yours, Andrew, Be seen in snow and lilac by noon Tallest unfortunates of curry and Maces and one earful to marry of corn Your home was a war- against The Viceregal- My hand- I swore that you won.. A vacuum electric to your beard of Leif, It was minus one to your yard. And the easel you left- to paint a rose- Knoweth the meltwaters of Clarendon

To mine wellhead you paid playgirl and I wept for Jason and your pain and bled for my fern- it is willow and eruptive of McDonalds- No water for hitmen like Time. Only three bears who love nature and have no Quispamsis like yours- I knew country and the building of castles and stars and the maps to bilderberg- Restless media on Baig Blvd has no space like Roger- who is alone in Lunenburg for a IIc. Stand by your yellow fear- The sun does accuse us

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And one kilogram won- Applesauce for the troops of Gagetown- who saw apocalypse through IBM- They oiled the 6 nanometer and prayed to the quantum- What will happen if we follow Jesus? IBM says be Christian- Ritchie lake of terpenes and silver and Rod- For dew on your hair and arms of friendmanship. -Jeffery

In Donegal I was frozen by the way I worded Frost on Remembrance Day You’ll be alright There is nothing between friends that can explain the pain of Rod Thinking of Chance Harbour way across Alan We drifted to Digby And scotched while rehearsing It was Wednesday for our hens And we were the Savage grandparents In one tiny flower Alison supposed a Harbour With a huge Mount Everest Garden Two years by twilight And clothes on our rocking chair I was healed by The Eucharist On New Year’s Day And all the way up the stairs were early Valentine hearts There was nothing between friends But a chance to play with our boardgame Brrr but ..oh it was cold .. Grand Dulse was full of matcha In a bowl of hot matches And bees who saw wax being born I was healed by Thanksgiving And saw pale blue houses Across to Tokyo And things in a Honda for the first night I was born I was expecting a night with Darrell- To confide about the way I was born And the watch I gave to Salim Was interested in my redemption Nothing happened at midnight But two little socks for my friend- The good one who stole nothing- And survived a canoe tipping to Holland It was an income for 39 years of three dollars an hour but less The car took my fuel for granted Bicycles were not to be stolen And I lost the news to McLaren, Chalk dust on my table- So that Target would be rid of scented products-

Berries from Scotland made the way to my basket- In Rockwood but less than here- My best friend is Phil Who I prayed would stay strong And time collapsed to the rocket- It was 2003, and OpenCL was starting to expose the gene that I had Which was a vaccine variant Nothing but pine – on Everest Zay Prayed against the diesel And tiny water, at Easter Was my home

Forever-

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Jeffery

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We walked along the wooden path And spoke loudly about the gate Three years of clean water And the nicest hens I was unafraid of War, but surely I had the best of days And all green and on Time Supposing the night was projected And I went to Mass- In Canada And men wept to see The Eucharist But Cape Town would wait Et en Sverige (Suede) Nous somme cop- Lake Malaren Je suis complet au jour d’hui Au Dieux, Amen- les bons d’arbres

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Booya There were squirrels And a Mig tree In Quispamsis, There were chairs And a place for sitting By the door And I had a hand waiting And a signal For the time machine But the front runner, Mulrooney Was back from the thirties And hit theoretical chemistry To save the McLaughlins From actual fear While the sun burned For Burin And that piece of butter Sitting inside the piano That altered the sound of the intermezzo

Between the differences

It wasn’t of colour Or a thing of trees But sure in verse And high esteem

Two shots to the bow And later by one It was in the box And see me now

I was his And there were kids And we were aside And lucky few

Of the mercy for now The stew Mercy of the hour The show

We had money for now In the box This is the hour I had few

It is the point The little poor Up on point The kids fire

And we vote And we vote And we vote

Hi Captain This is the port He Carman At Christmas as Christian

In German And according to the tree It is a small hour In the little harbour

And in that harbour A little retour For that raconteur L’ascenceur

To the lucky bear And the innocent And this innocent And I am innocent

It was in the news And be that lover Am I not a date And I don’t dare

But I’ve got a groove hold And this is where it hurts It was writer in a box And where it rains It turned within

Because it were Look I can’t listen A tale for that book Isn’t it were

And this is part three To be on that church Sitting in partition Georgian and it hurts

To the Captain Baghdad and brethren Singing to Parthenon Recognize the churn

This is the afternoon It isn’t addiction Recognize the dam It isn’t afternoon

Baptized for them This is the prize And according to annihilation Bless you

This is the fire At every gravitating dew Because you It is the foxhole

Query by now And according to them The way we levitate I love you

For all that they warm The way to Quispamsis Lucky into reverse And I love you

Thus is Quispamsis And Hi fishermate Whenning tomorrow This is the norm

Write me in the morning It is little because Into the sun And I am synth To the moon

Writing at Incheon To be in that intertale And because of the thesis Because of the verse Into your because Into between

It is moth Geronimo And because of bedtime A ninth hour A man hour And at Riverside An Irish hour And at way scale A quatitude of you Mercy at mule Because of you And into every cache We gravitate To the army In daytime At graveside Who sing at you Only you

And in L’Acadie The Cray And l’apostrophe In the altar By many La francophonique

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Away from the main place And a little rabbit knew his name It was dream time And there was a wish For a scoop of information To that automatic post And our tomorrow When apprehension faded For the best of all deals A lorry and his cover With fast food and highways near By six and by ten So that our proa would wait For the season of healing And in time, many spoons For each rower by drill And from that shed, every drone Across the landing and the lakehouse That by nine was out but not empty Of our best dream for Dever And we were the empty, early keep Of silence and his way A beautiful motorcycle To the man who showed up By the wayside for a while And the cousin of grass, Bamboo for the siding Felt for an early run Into the lake and our shore And six empty lots For the men to reshovel And be early with And to dream for As the arborist waits For the owl to depart Up to the heavens for a sip Of the nectar of each skying river In Drummondville, Where I slept

But home without scales And losing no load For the leaves of one day To notice the weary clock That I surpassed by the moon For all light and all wear Was an ecstasy of near water Without oil or without women To be yesternear and go back With a fresh coat of green And a haul of timely carrots And wooden beams and a best friend It was only what I wanted And was three sheets to the bar So that in that early, empty street I had abandoned no-one but the hotel Where I reposed the day to best local And carried on with my dream

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To the fair And I wonder What is it all This worth For the hospice And a star To bewoman Of a standing time To behold the cousin Of a true country For a way with words And heaven men Who saw the trillion Of a national monument To new relations Of a global time In trust To the earth

Today’s theme is: Your Best Savings— Stay Afraid: The Lord Loves You and Everybody Knows — A Secure and Divine Humour — Jesus is Best in Heaven : 💾

Does not fit on a diskette.

Jeffery