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I saunter past thy green grove, with my shoes of leather
I watch white head crow caw, flappin’ its black feather
my chick-let gums stuck rather
deep in my Wooden Calcium stone corner
warp in my rose suave food road, brother
I whiff worn-torn Yella flower
rapped by a gang of blue band bees – oh Mother!
I speak smoke, in cold weather
there ain’t nobody to tether

A brown warm worm dig deep in musky clay
gape at me, with his chest full of black mud spray
I blow him with my stinky mint puff, eh!
he veil a sprig which shine grey;
I brush my Orange round necky-belly covering, say
T-shirt– erupts a sneeze of doom
make my pitch black moustache alignment lose its way
Ginger God, It’s freezing for the month of May
I perceive the sun through a prism of dewdrop, still on its stay
Scatter a rainbow of colors, which twinsets my rubbery play

My Green and Brown Journey grow faster and slower
I drank old wine, stowed in my silver polyethylene tumbler
An orange rock lodged oxygen and hydrogen atom shower
drizzled by Red haired tree monkeys of quarter!
Beak Birds chirp sighting, a melange of Musk melon water
and salty tinge of Jack Rabbit’s matter…
A bison graze, his black needles grew colder
He seldom minds thy chillness; busy bloating his belly fatter
I touch the joy of what nature offer
Not my work but this really matter…
A lot matter!

This is written in response to Tanya’s Poetry Challenge #3