Wednesday

over thence

hence our boats dry docked? O gambol yet might haul it at night then perch ashore

this's has held many the crashes of the old and bitter sea
isthmus of sand blocking up her eyeview. AS sanded to the eyes shes not seeing whats goin on beneath her nose, and her clothes. Soaked! Wet to the bone! with sand around her feet and quaternary deposits caking her asscracks. Jill loves a sand dune more than anything more than an hill!
---------------- Call it a bloody lagoon! filled to the rim with__ the wrecks of dead kings and moss covered boats , say 100 of them

Her ship steams between the channel and if she's stranded its temporary fever while finding land to land land to land to land....

And for sure shes's sighted lambs and whales aardvaarks and fine pipes from the ancient of day and fright. .. off the coast line and away from the headland ... and there's often noticed trilobite foossls when digging at her fusy feet clung deep in the earth of her veins.... Stone pillars hail her and vistors arrive in catamarans ... tipping over the backbiting water rough shod to its speed and salt mangy fist...
For play there's stone heaving and other tribal diversions but a prism's a pillar hoisted between island and she's lover of the fine fall winding....