When a farm goes aflame, the flakes fly home
to bear the tale; for one goes, one come home-
But as Elephant weeps for lacking teeth,
Wild Bears poke the ground with their gnashing teeth;
What if wickeds' are fire, the world would have
been beautifully burnt with their rave halve-
But a burnt palace could reflect beauty
and sugarcane has no place of safety,
Why then doth the lazy hiss when day breaks?
when clanging pots must fight hard when day breaks.
A little oil can mar a sweet river
ev'n when the bank spurs the flow of river.
A stone thrown in anger can't kill a bird
but the chirp of the Brooks can call a bird-
Why then doth dryness of land birth hotness?
While hotness must come to birth rich wetness;
The bitter wind that blew from North to South
is a blessing to the land in the South-
For if all must work for one, one must fail
all and if mist must fall, the dew must fail.
If yam isn't eaten for oil, the oil
will be eaten for yam which wasn't boil'd.
....
"words from the innocent mind"
Philip Peace