Beautiful Girls

Chamomile tea tastes like some sort of benevolent grain much honeyed I remember one long moment of a day spent eleven years old. I know beautiful girls they're so beautiful they make the word new once more they have such delicate little faces such sweet wincing eyes and they break hearts by the dozen, ratta-tat-tat-tat and even I do although I'll never believe it. Being that I am "Supposed to make two homemade-pumpkin-pies-from-scratch," I am considering blanket refuge, "Hello and goodbye! Sorry!" The trees are now the color of pumpkin pie because "To everything (turn turn turn,) there is a season." This is the season of teatime, tree turning, cutting loose kindly lovers because they do not send me, and giving thanks for the beautiful girls. They're so beautiful like woodpeckers when you see them you go "Ah!" When they look at you you look over both shoulders and when they leave you you think o sweet vision. I did not want to leave much but wanted less to stay, someday I will know-