A Perfectly Beautiful Blue Sky
My morning walk from place of dwelling,
To harbor side to see what’s jellying;
To the French ship by the dock right there,
Via the post office to check my mail in a Paris t-shirt where.
I went on board and had a look around,
To the captain’s cabin which is hard to find but is found;
And talked to find out whether I could come aboard,
For a trip down south and whether it was suitable
Then I walked up the street to see the doctor,
Early and in time and even to be prompt to;
After talking for a while in comfort style,
While he wrote and took down what else.
I’d read the paper while waiting and thinking, debating,
With a glass of water or two to compare it's relating;
I walked out after giving to docket to him,
And went into the church to search the real him.
After walking from there to the place that id came,
Stopping at shops along the way while enjoying the shine;
Of the beauty so rare and so attractive so fair,
A picture of it, a perfectly beautiful blue sky in prayer.
The ships still sit and the music is it,
And the library is sifting and wasting away;
But there on the streets were the eternal receipts
Of what had happened and would happen always.
Signed,
It could have only one beautiful woman.