.
what needs everything's you to paradise
wait a garden
a wall about
a gate sword with a lot of closed and thousands of bar-
a cut from morning light
a rush scroll, and streams
a whistle a harp one chirp
a snort hope (of lovely art)
drugs and scents of balsam
complain much always green and never black plague
no no yes no no no contradiction
a joyful loud
weigh a sorts and weighed
the toy at eight out of gold
one today and not tomorrow
the wonderful pastime that
the testament of warm snow
is who's who again would
we ask for it to be.
Elisabeth Borchers
.
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