Twelveth Day of Aprileth

Twelveth Day of Aprileth

Drafty by WordySWorthington

 
I wandereth lonethumb has this cloud

above the snow lines
That float on high rilles o'er vales and hills,
on wings of turtle doves

When all at once I saw a crowded hillside,

a bunch of skunks
A host of white stripes, of black furry creatures;
Beside the streaming, beneath the tree of aging,
Fluttering and dancing in the wafting smell oh my god that odour.

Continuous as the eyes that shine
And pissing on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a hayfield trampling all them mice in way:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves of amber grains beside them wilted at advance, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves did weep at smell of cats;
A poet could not be but gay and very handsome man,
In such a jocund buzzard company!
I sniffed—and gagged—but little thought of smell had penetrated brain

What wealth the show of all them kitty buzzard skunks to me had brought:

For oft, when on my side of tent I lie
In vacant or in sniffing mode,
They flash upon that inward eye of love them most

Which is the blissters of the solitude of nose;
And then my heart with pleasure fills the lungs,
And silences the coughing choking charlax withe his skunks.