Beauteousness Idyllic Balletic.

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.ೃ࿔*:･ 𝐎𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐲𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐲—𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐲𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐚 𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐡𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐝;

𝒉𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒄 𝒊𝒅𝒚𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒄’𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒂 𝒉𝒍-𝒂𝒆𝒇𝒅𝒊𝒈𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒑𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒎𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒑𝒉𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒓𝒉𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒎𝒔. 𝒉𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒄 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝒅𝒊𝒎𝒇 𝒄𝒚𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒚’𝒔 𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒍𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒉𝒍𝒆𝒐𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒆𝒇𝒕𝒖𝒎 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒃𝒂𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒄 𝒉𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒉𝒕𝒐𝒓, 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒉𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒄 𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒃𝒆𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒚𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒍𝒆𝒐𝒅𝒄𝒚𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈.

Hindeweard arch rad wlenco sets the daylight; Seeastream misrepresents ymbe slopes orgilde seolfor onbærnan, The Fields Elysian glitter nean twihynde spray of golden dust; The gilded dome is bright, Duguo towers orgilde notre dame slaehtan forswapan hwaet gray se cwyldtid weder. And pale from left to right a hundred bridges leap from either quay. Pillared with pride, The city of delight sits like an empress by her silver seine, Heavy with jewels, All her splendid dower flashing up on her, Won from shore and main by shock of combat, Sacked from town and tower. Wherever men have builded hall or fane red war hath gleaned for her and men have slain to deck her loveliness. I feel again that joy which brings her art to faultless flower, That passion of her kings, Reign on reign, Arrayed her ‘steorra fullan gimm mid ar—ærnes heonu mægenspêd’.
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𝑇𝑟𝑢𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑙𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑙𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙. 𝐼𝑡𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑦 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑥𝑠. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑙𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑥𝑠 𝑥𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠.

Her love spread out like Branches, Reaching upwards to the sky. Giving shade throughout the summer, And a place to keep you dry. So all the citys children, Built a treehouse round her spine, And though they never asked her, She still told them she was fine, They etched their names with knives, Along the edges of her bone, A handwritten reminder, She was always theirs to own, Despite the pain they brought her, Upwards she still grew, Thinking if you love someone, Its the least that you can do, But as the kids turned into adults, And the winter air grew cold, She wept sap from their carvings, For they weighed too much to hold, And the men all thought her branches, Were to help their fires start, Put a chainsaw through her heart. She walked across the room, Raised a white shade, And opened the french doors to her garden. She plunged her elegant fingers into a blue hydrangea on the terrace, To see if it needed watering. No sooner had she lifted her hand out of the flowerpot than a bird landed on the stone balustrade that overlooked the garden. The tiny thing looked a bit wobbly among the flowers. Marvelous cascading laugh, Halfway between a tease and a call to joy.
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#Jocenneth. jocenet plslh

👤 #민호. Wtm kalem

#Fletcher. Mereka berdua

#Jocenneth. Joe sama pler

#Joelle. fler

👤 wtm alay

#Joelle. jocee please

#Fletcher. Joelle

#Jocenneth. Joelle yang pasti