Beyond a gravel lot Up on a grassy spot I perceived a gravestone In a cemetery below a rainbow. Short of arc, bereft of rain so localized, I felt okay to go ahead and make a change. First my socks my shoes, then coat go to the shore charter a boat and get aboard to sail abroad. And as I sailed I pondered who was floating down beneath me. The octopus that occupied the coral reef below the sky and spiky fish with swords, oh lord! and urchins on the lurking floor I am no better than those poor sea devils, It's just that I'm in form--and just in time to experience a breadth of God's omni-pleasant natural design. And once upon that destined shore I've landed I demand that it's my duty to report conditions of the pathway down alleyways made of cobblestones by a cornerstore, the keepers of their inns and ramblings-on of whereabouts of honeypots derived from some suspicious caves by grace of missions by some auspicious braves. Oh yes, no things or stuffs I cannot miss I trust my senses and not the court to tell me what I must report and if said travelings abide when over there some merchant up and slipped and died before his wake, but in his trail should leaves, or a mist, or a pock of dirt or dust collect upon his gravestone I'll resign to sit back and write the like for you and you, for you must know about a cliffside grove upon the shore of brightest greens beyond the eyes the eyes of those who look and see there is a rainbow short of arc above a gravestone across another sea.