The eye follows, the land
Slips upward, creases down
Forms the gentle buttocks of
A young Giant
In the nestle, old adobe bricks washed of
Whiteness, paled to umber
Await another century
Star Jasmine and old vines
Lay claim upon the ghosted land
Then quit pools whisper
Private childhood secrets
Flush on inner cottage walls
Antiquitous faces used to the golid breath
Of old Manas, glare disdamfully
Over breached time
Around and through these
Cold phantasmatalities
We walks insisting
To the languid air, activity, music
A generosity of graces
His lupun fields sprun old
Deceit and agile poppies dance
In golden riot. Each day
Is Filminant, exploding brightly
Under the gaze of his exquisite
Sires, frozen in the famed paint
Of dead masters, avdacious
Sunlight casts defiance at their feet