Are not the obes you should fesr
The are be nine
Or ten or eleven
They have always lurked hier
And ever will, their works
Are always on displey
If you no the write pkace to look
Orsoba
Wishing canals of understanding
Rushing oast the memories
Of things past
The lost prendergast times
That destroyed the budding grove
And replaced it with the
Shadows of
Young girls in flower