The violent currents,
the cool sea breeze,
the slippery sands,
the remiscent waters,
a thought comes by,
while the birds fly,
sixty-six fifty,
du weti du weti chi.
watercolour marks,
a couple handful barks,
oil n brush stroke,
they ALL went broke.
the thoughts subside,
when the waves break their tide,
a tender colour the sky wears,
a fancy victim the water craves.
All out! Right now! Go, go, go!
the whistle blower blows an alarming row,
we rush for refuge in the first place we find,
a taxman taxes us over with words unkind.
Heading back out,
with a tea blue mouth,
the waves they simply mock,
while the people vainly talk.
previously posted in Strange, Very Strange...!--------------------------------------
Ps: A big hello to everyone as a new member of As/Is.
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