a study toward sonnet #1,138 by FisherKingKQJ
The lead goose has gone hard tack at the storm,
According with wind currents nicely swirling,
Pre-empting by going round in circles whirling,
As clouds speed up into hurricane flow form.
Stars were our map, moon was our milestone corm,
I'm bogged barb end, lightning sharp unfurling,
As forward go our honks splutter hurling,
Is this so wrong, or so right or the norm?
You know how middling, I honk you enough,
Catch you at the start, the seed of trouble,
When you get in grand spirals of being gruff,
When we've skipped wreckage adrift and rubble.
What can I say but - our fat and hormones
Are built on seasoned flesh with hollow bones.
(Chorus)
o $10,000,000 bones
o $10,000,000 girders
o $10,000,000 struts
[Autocube3 - for 3d interactive movies.]
SPADES DIAMONDS CLUBS HEARTS