An Arctic Air Anoon

Writings by the Wolf Boy

Snow sails softly signifying Santa soon.
Making more melodramatic meandering-
Believably, by bringing brackish boon.
Propagated peace; plus pretentious philandering,

Transformed torches tipped to the tallow;
So some sailing snows should suspect surrender.
Softening, stimulating, sickeningly shallow; solvent-
Tossing, turning till ticking times turn tender.
Free-foraging forgiveness from fearful fetid family fallows.

Breezes blow by bringing blustery blasts by bated breath,
Sovereign she shields, 
Who wields where worlds-
Be. Blowing boundlessly.
Mother, my maker, might make me move my moon.
She shudders suddenly, 
Afore an arctic air anoon. 

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