Pear drops.

Pear drops

Sparkling stars on your head band
rose upon your thigh
glittering diamonds
alas poor yorrick
never got to read a line
yawning in the catholic school
stuffing crackers in the bag
glossy peckish leather
his massive galaxy a sonnet
the biscuit on the phone
clothes on the table
writing with
a phoenix feather
yorricks older than your
red and blue carribean
bandana
the apple on your soul
hes been held by so many hands
seen by many eyes
roughed edges
the latest four laugh at coughs
golden wonders
keep transforming
snacks
ten pence crisps
survive