on a speed
dial
like a heli
on a while
life rollacost
so quick
the tides
woke
billions
of coast
they roll in and out
of rows
the wind blows
a paquerette
of flows
the bird fly higher then most
and the skies oppose
the colours of the rainbows
stows to make
them look goes
far away underneath
the archoves lows till
empty is posed
to think but never dozed.
solace is knowsed
the rubicon may feel prosed.