Doll Leap

When sighing in to blog,
entirely by dolls,
those eager important things
huge stuff as all
that make the doll leap into other,
it isn't really, it is love.

Slow ones lift up peace,

it is a law to grow,

glows from the head,
gold green hexagoners.
They plod, they plod,
pattern on shell made mystical.

That shell is medicine to wings,
the skirt of feathers tortoise flies,

five down the back, four on either side
grow by the speckled head.
He comes for peace,

that attitude of kiss.