A territory flat and wet
swiftly appeared into my sight
whilst I was flying like a jet
on the black saddle of my bike.

The twigs formed branches from the trees,
I thought about the chloroplast,
the forestry was full of bees:
a living temple from the past.

On Saturday: a feast in hall,
which fed both gut and mainly soul.
The leaves were red: in fact it’s fall!
I feel as fresh as a tadpole.

Then Sunday came, with overhangs…
I went to town, dressed up, and heard
seraphic tunes in holy songs,
which made me feel high as a bird.