Wednesday, February 12, 2014

She Said

she said thank beau ideal for the spring flowers, she said, and give thanks god for the garden that was behind her mansion, filled with beautiful, colors but the rootage of the season, but still in ravishing bloom. Thank God she was here, she said, admiring the magnificent view, the garden, and thanks for the balcony beyond the shimmering pool, she said, admiring the suns brilliance and the perfervid shape of Irish coffee and the New York Times and the private violent rose blooming near the fountain . And for the robin in the maple tree and its nest filled with five flecked ballock almost hatching and the furry squirrel scurrying to enshroud from the house cat that somehow never manages to reach the advanced braches where the squirrel runs to and the brightly yellow dandelions the intersperse themselves in the green pot perpetually trying to cover the grass com pletely. And Dylan, the poet, she said, Who was always game atop his glorious ?Fern Hill, and M...If you want to get a unspoiled essay, revise it on our website:

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