"Shine" Poem by Michael Walkerjohn

"They"
ever do slightly
please, and so preserve
out of the ‘red, ' of the zenith
the airs, the glazing's, that shine
off; of the earth's plentiful waters …
from, every heart, of every last member
of the species human, from all; of the lights
from this sun age. You, and them, each parts
of this "mountain, " of the snows, from the
melt waters of these each; slowly kill US.
Feel the ‘Cusp of Sumer'…
Feel and peel off your top; and shine!
Each of the God's willed; as a single
lovely buttercup, that most folks
take or not! Keep ‘the passing'
near unto your heart, and do
not ever forget; to "shine"!