Forever sailing on the
glassy blue
No wrinkled toes to
moisturize
True Love rides the
wind swept tide
Until it’s fruits have
ripened
Ne’er an urge their
bum’s to hide
Such comfort in the
solace of their simple
life
They grow, and glow,
amidst their meager
existence.
No book to guide
No song to soothe
No play date to
pacify
Only the love song of
instinct sung deeply in
their hearts.
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