Saturday, July 14, 2012

Monday mourning, perished parsley.

Monday a mountain moves miraculously, maybe mud will flow.

Sliding down slippery slopes to valleys secreted below.

Rumbling the rocks rise from their recluse, rapidly revealing a red radiance.

Gently the glow gestates, gradually growing graver.

Assuredly the azure sky abandons its abode as the ash advances in abundance.

Serenity slowly surrenders to the sound of something sinister swelling.

Vermillion vegetation vibrates vigorously. Verily this vantage point should be vacated.

Perhaps post-humorously the parsley will be placated?

Below is this inspiration for this text.