Sun and spaces
Rosy clouds are lighter than bird s wings. Roses show her baseborn faces in winds. When moonlights shone on this great but attainable hill top many things seem to be in harmony. Flowers wreathe on lovers heads are trite games. There are no more fig leafs to be remained. Buds and bells swing silently like bells. Wings have no tricks while flowers entice our soul like black sheep chewing black berries. Black sheep has a burry voice but it is so excite and give no sense of disgrace. Are there are some bottles of good wines for natures loves. Love can flatter birds to skim on sands. Two wild gooses leave the queues of brothers and rest themselves on the hills top.
Wild gooses like talented men are generally bold. They now stop wielding their wings and stand to chant each other by throats. The setting sun is the mercy king on thrones. The fogs diffuse to the bright lights that clear our unclean top. Nights are the symbols of whinny and swarthy authorizations. As dark has the sensation to swallow lights. So the gooses have the expedient measures to close their eyes. Only moon varnished their feathers. Morning breeze on our reduced hill has great impacts on comforts.
When morning broke the sun again hold the some little calmness of some corner of the hill. Mother of nature prop the eyes of many beings. Dews like the flower petals. Some creatures dance with joys. Every things seem to enumerate the symbols of high spirits. Warm sun beams drive away all the ruthless feelings. Scorpious on sky will lost its colors as the sun wobbled up. Gradually holy circle from eastern sky hide and wrap all over the darkness.
At noon and right up over the blue sky there is unique fire torch for us. It may fiercer than rusty cats. It scorched all land like flame heating cottons. Breezes are the only welcome guests. Silver are sometimes better than clouds so we like silver clouds. However the clouds are too bright to be dark. Flowers and plants are still seem to be flourishing ,but I pray for the rains and breezes of my villages where heavy sticks are so harsh as sun over the hills. Tail of wild cat is steered around the heated winds. Hares jump desperately away from pounces from wild cats. Men can conquer spaces just like wild cat s tail swaying. Scorch sun may destroy our seeds of loves and jades are burning with smokes. Beautiful jades are burry under soils of mountains. Our lands are all crawl along by creepers. Corns and creepers are mismatch. On day barbs hurt the big hands clapping instead of nice palms. Goddess stood riveted on the spinning sphere but they are squirmed by heats.
Great gooses are willowy like blonds. Cranes like judge wig with white hairs but medals are vicious red. Really the bulls are on spaces or on villages. The tops are slick with ice on winners but songs seem to popular and ooze with happiness. The bewilder forests carry the odors of final sadness. Fairy gaze at the junky spaces feeling anguished. Who are anthophagous for beautiful flowers… There bodies will swell like dragons. Sparking jades embarrass for smudges. We are shameful to glimpse the next morning beams of lights but not all meat-eaters are vulgar. Men are all imbued with coldness of the hills and villages and could only peace by staying away
By cheung shun sang=cauchy3=Laplace181