North of east a murder hies
across the amber autumn skies
exclaiming their defiant cries
emboldened by the suns demise,
then vibrant Venus flaunts her fling
with Jupiter, the would-be king
as jejune jesters dream of spring
when hecklers will at last take wing.
Are You Reading Me?
Very nice... no cleeshays here... gee, did I spell that right? ;)
ReplyDeletelol I tink sew. Still working on the other one
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