*** A Story Untold Yet ***

there lie many a rungs of colors the ascension yet onto the moon on the strands of love blustering clouds when all around intoning blue flower blooms from the bud as the law fragrance diffuses into the air betiding tunes flow on the rune of passion at times storm inevitable on the milieu in its own way clock when stays back the strong wind thrusts on lazing tears cuckoo no more sings the song of autumn rumpus lays its icy hand by the mystery rumpling the gloss into a rigid frame of fire tide loses its dream from the core of desire as the web of sands redoubts the splash vale of tunes seems to be rocked up the lightening splashes the fire in eyes legion’s street at criss-cross rucks up i simply speechless behold the stream meandering rueful across the snowfall in furrows of love and hate yet undespised