Friday, July 13, 2007


That man bird Quigleanamos;
Who sits perched in my view;
He has come out of his crater once again;
To share in my meal and lick the morning dew;
He is in the cornerposts of my columns;
Fresh on my mind;
Stars abound encircling him;
In the horns of plenty he shall find;
Others like he-but none more like me;
Quigleanamos shall never flee;
The meeting of our minds out in the cosmos;
As shooting stars go by;
I am too feeble to search out another friend;
And he is too feeble to fly;
We shall talk about the nebula;
The many moons at cresent that appear;
It is a mutual understanding we have;
That has always been very clear;
What are days to either of us;
Each one is a cluster of how we cope;
Quigleanamos is nearby as I;
We climb together the mountain slope;

© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

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