Building Up, 'Off That Mound

You could when I should then recvice you, within me. Her song that I sang, did naught when she lost, I became. To deep such delight, would she help, but never could tell me. That with I, could her music is loud, crystal and so clear. I tarry when speaking and sleep then therein, much too long. I would build up high off that fair mound. Warm is the air, green grass moved all around on the ground. Sunny freckled are hers those I am lost, in long arms. Wild soft warm legs walking up are those caves of desire. And all whom could hear, did I see them then off, there between. The cliff off there yonder, standing forsaken alone, rocky crag. A ledge to the edge looking up and out off into the rift, off too where. Trying to speak, I can only but croak, looking out, down below. And instead the full moon shines down upon me, the sky is wide open. Thus when I look, it is more throaty and vibrant, and richly behinds dark clouds she has at last, I try and became. Look beware and I looked, why I looked, she climbs up and becomes. Sitting up now wide awake and aware looking down, I look up, The moon throught the window it rises turns yellow and sets.