Tranquility In The Woven Distress~ White

For the land of Atlanta, covered with dusty warmth

Of the skies too white, spreading all across. 

Terribly, as the light spreads, the colors would all fade. 

Would it suffice the need for a dainty loss? 

For the lilies nurturing right into my soul,

While the oodles of daisies feel miles apart;

From the part where I would find distress,

Wisteria's fallen, at no time the misery would depart. 

For the swans fluttering solely within- 

Eskimo, I would ask to return the favour to obsess. 

The Persian moustache, would uphold my imagination;

Left me to the tranquility in the woven distress.