Trunks of blunders
Started dreaming of boards of glory, untold story
Cracked bed sinking, into glue filled fissure.
A real look at the measure
A greasy slipped hill ride
Falling into pleasure; a bored cavern dugout, chucked out
Thrown up at speed on entry, no room for tugging
Blown out passion, sore eyes, no tears to wet them
Just beers to fret them; squeeze in more heart beats
Stay up not missing the treat that isn’t
Fallen star a maker of new matter
All told dust up, take up the lever.
Pull hard and let the wagon start rolling
Fear of the known and unknown portending
Just do it eternal
Patrick Turner-Lee Copyright 2014