White Dove

dove right into the buoyant bountiful breathtaking beachhead of heavenly delight flutters of butterflies tickle inside of tummy anticipating ecstasy to rid me of melancholia.

anticipation, in order of direction,
fall from the great order of grace
plunder of discomfort appear,

their woods how they agree
follow their scented fee

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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