wild Irish rose

i was wondering if tomorrow

will be heard in my sky's soul

some acute echoes

in your spoken language,

attired in some incantations

with proper inklings,

while ingests tasty frissons

just to lean the fog in spam,

sufficiently to can be seen

my spectrum's chromaticities

in the smoky apparition

of your black-golden beam,

wrapped in the suave scent

of a wild Irish rose, fed by me‥