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User:HTO

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One

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  • And honoured among wagons, I was prince of the apple towns


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Three

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Without climate...
without climate the high-comb makes a pause.
Try to replace it with the snapping of pincers,
you won't succeed.
Family is a pond to you.
My brother the crumpet, my sister the pancake,
my niece the hurdle race,
my nephew the partner of bridges,
my best friend the melée of mazes and slides.
And what is the feature of the headquarters?
Cartilaginous silence.
In the forest of shafts
the amanitas are more placodermic
than the lion of Nemea.
Hark!
The climate zones!
And the comb clangs again.

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Five

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