Modal study of the Tudor Matadors.

When opening a door to a Tudor Matador

underneath the expression of a bullish mood 

A pink sky when things are pi and a life spent 

following the framed moon.
Mindful of starting fires under meditative lions 

Is like spending too much time under the sun

Why would you recreate beginnings 

for already carved copper plated story.
you could have borrowed the keys to the ice house

tempered by those Beautiful Words 

Which mathematicians Scrawled upon walls

that fell down not so long ago 

Being counted out to the abacus signatures.
Can you follow these instructions too build your own ship 

And when You look out over all those edifices

Your realise at once we are all just serpents of the world 

Having watched hatchlings and the abandonment 

of sea weights.
To Sew sails to take you beyond the stranded lighthouse 

From a cave beneath the stars to grow oaks from acorns 

to feed a comtemplative hen pondering how do you put a feather 

back in a featherless head.