Know the passage endless
Of the wicked garment flower,
Still we could have met
And shared the spanners on in peace,
Why we caught the listy haze
Of fluting Tony Turnies,
Still the living leave
Browning is the endless fade,
Of plucking caught the come in
At the plate of place and pace - (s/h -it)
Poo - we're putting up as if in us
We were the It,
Still the silence broke-choke
Of the it-strokes smokely changing,
Meaning of the dimple:
Off amongst us be thou gem!