I love the plaud
when it takes
hold over the bove
it sounds so drole
and yet it's gold
in worlds of bold
I like the strolls
across the lawns
of natural stalls and
sweet oh straws
made out of hol's
and honey tolls
I think of prose
when all is rose
upon a rows
of diamond coasts
it feels so real
it's almost posed
I say of words
that take off loads
off human roads
it's simple fords
I can unfold
I make it all
to be a ball
of grooms and proms
it 's such a fine
to be a rhyme
amongst a dime
it's almost mine
it's special time!!