I swoop down low over the ravine, the wondrous deep blue I've seen. There in the bowels of the earth the scary monsters surf. And drawn in a few bold lines some chiaroscuro signs. In
labyrinthine mine ebony elves in thyme with scent of thyme. In labyrinthine mine they
sweat soaked in salty sateen, salty sateen. They rasp some sassafras wood, hold owlets on
their heads. They coax up the bloom of marsh marigold and have bats under their armpits.
And dive up madly, push the beaker to the yonder stone wall by torchlight. Twiglight hour