Thinking back

Across 28 springs these idol hands yet to get the better wind of a humid evening 
My senses erupted , the smell captivated my feet pine dew flew amongst the dense woods , lingo of the dark society imposed on my thoughts their eyes glared   My heart drummed like hammers along a chain gang symphony in a southern mile   Crackling Cherry wood yellows and her bitter red flames contrast to the Devine regal skies  , my eyes burned raged from smokey harpoons resulted cheery stories of childhood  lore , after all the fancy thought   Just let me lose my mind away in the trees , where she speaks in volumes