Green Trees Leap

Green trees leap
Over rovering hovering
Aces of spaces on cases
Of cigars in cars on Mars
When ten men sent
For old mold holds
Under rock and sock that mock
The name of the game in shame
While chairs’ hairs’ wares
Sell well in hell for shells
To make the cake that baked
For hours in flowers that cower
And above all is a shovel
That eats meats near sweets
That burn in churns and never learn
Of rhymes that chime like mimes
In France like ants who dance in pants
Of shades, so staid, dressed on maids
So mean, who clean till green sheen can be seen
On the black of the whack in the shack
In the night where might is right
Over worlds where hurls lack curls
In fields of wheat sheets that meet
Our every need of feed or creed
To break a snake over wakes
Of boats that float full of goats
On a pond in the lawn of a pawn
Who rules his mules with a pool
Of blood, so red and shed that led
The wise in the eyes in the skies.