Sunday musing, still accusing.
Restless mess and in distress.
Come by now and hear the plow.
Once is grass and never mass.
Blue is you and holy art thou.
Crutch and craze, wild amaze.
Such is that and point to joint.
Love this aqua, hate your fate.
Climb the green and fill the hill.
Garden to roam and trust we must.
Live the life and die on top.
Hell is here and watch the drop.
Jump no more and hear the score.
For the weather is better, the morels, stored.