While Easing my way down the boardwalk
I looked far out at the Briny sea.
The Crashing white waves seemed then to talk
Of evil Fake things at which we balk
Of Neptune, of Minerva, of me.
A Gloomy young Donkey stood quite still
It was separated from its friend
The Clapping and Bouncing upon the hill
The Hummingbird O’er the Whiskey mill
Where each Encounter Mentioned the end.
Here’s another new site I’ve found: ROBERT PEAKE .