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it is almost time for lunch
yet while the sun maintains its heat
we have mangoes at our feet
and loll and laze in luxury
with vivid fishes in the sea
and time's erased or bent and spent
conveniently yet never lent
but trundles brightly tickety-boo
billowing an orange hue
while strongholds float above the beach
and no-one cares for love or speech
until the dream within the eye
sneezes all the notions dry
thank you, wireman. muchly appreciated. eph