Paul Two

What you call consistent, remains being single, swallows all resistance, your search for the breeze, sometimes the tingle, the water wrung Belfrey, do you hear the listless, an assembly of jingles, the things that you kiss, your quotation of pieces, you learn how to jangle, away on the sea, do you stand faceless, each time dangle, a wind-lashed promise, that you tend easy, instead of the ring, like a rainbow tailed fish, turns a sunlit vista, beyond tides and shingle, what’s not to miss, when you bring trinkets?