The Vale by the sea.

the house of a vale by the sea 

where there’s no waiting

for horses with chalked boards 

roofs set to square down the line.
which can’t  be solved now by sugar cubes 

trips away with Plato too visit tubular rotating tides
a vine drunk on a life full of love 

with a glimpse of Eros on the wing

weaving rules of a second 

service at the nets knitting Pearls 

of beautiful woven squares.

 

whilst drinking rotating gears

watching webs sewn on a spiders rye 

the only light the reasoning found 

in geometric bulbs of springtime.

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