(ONE SUNDAY I SAID UNTO SHE)
It's Sunday as I alight pon thine planet, It wouldn't matter if it it were any other day. Thy so appealing to me as I whiff of thine air, so sweet in mine lungs. A moment as I touch thine earth. Thy beneath mine fingertips. So pleasing, and my heart doth pound in mine chest. I transfixed and transposed. A slight dance along these words as I man try to elucidate thee mine queen. To draw thee universal, cosmic and infinite. Mother of a new world, born of the old. My light falling upon thy mountains and thine valleys. Such sweet tea as I sit back and sip mine coffee, a puff of the blunt and I swept along sing with these keys and characters. This my dear is a sweet fall song, whispering faintly among the breeze swept leaves. A sigh, a soliloquy.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
