I.
Steam-lined flutist glances waft through such a law
Fluid,
As the softer
Corner the flag, rafter so seasons
May, the meadow wherein
I’ve found it
The visor of time
Ever a choral, the branches soprano
Logical points to the floor

II.
Possession is his, alas,
But denial
Singly the tin to my cent
Rapist so tempting,
Observant in threes
Ironic,
A papacy, coy
Abundance so litters in quatrains a mingling
Save her,
A peddler
An oil too wary of strain

III.
I precede the bookend’s creed
Caster packing crater’s reed
So conclusive,
Come to this
I wilt against a tuned beret
Incestuous, the hidden
A never ward, the slightest lie
Flight
Divides to pairs.