7.

Nicole Page-Smith,

7.

Stags and foe and, deer to play, find deer at the end of the month of May. We play deer to you. Deer run around, with doe and deer, fawn and stag, of May and, hay and, wheel and, love the love, of the merry month of May. We love the sky of May for Heaven is her home. In May, the antlers spin and twirl with love and, care. The planets turn and spin and, tumble Earth to grass, and, hay, we are churning earth for hay. The stags rear up and you count your blessings, for their earth is in the hay. The Spring sends a message and the planets spin, away. We spin, they tumble and the Earth spins to tumble, away. Tumble oh tumble May. We know we are on the course with the planets around, the Sun. To spin for Earth and tumble, is to spin the Earth, away, for on an axis she rides for hay. There is spinning and gathering, and deer communicate with God our Father, in the hay. Lords and princes, ride through the village, to trumpet love and the smell of hay. We are love for the merry month of May and deer for deer we count the hay. My antlers rest with May.

We love the plants of May for they are in the hay. Hay and wheel, and grassy May, is all I have to say. The plants are grown of worth and more, of love and tumble to dry, to the Summer hay. The plants of the garden of Spring are luscious and delicious, in smell. We smell the ripening of the hay, for the plant life of Spring and, frolic and, May. Plants are for the gods, hay is for the wheel and deer spin their antlers, away, to the planets knowing, of hay and wheel, and contentment, to the forest workers, of May. Their growth is planetary and like deer of antlers, and growth for Summer/Spring, the plants grow merrily, away. Plants turn to hay, with plains of grassy, dry, fields, for Summer love and Spring. The sky turns and blue, and clear, is May. Plants turn to plants, for attention and observe wind, that way. Seeds blow in the wind and form new plants, and the seed of Earth, rests in the hay. The tumble of May brings Summer storms and the dampness with lightening, and thunder. Plants of seed and worth, spring forth, to the newness of the ground, resting, with hay. Delight is the sight and we joy, and merry festival , to the sounds, and scent of plants with love and tumble, worth. Delights are to be known and felt, and smell so nice, in May, and enjoy your garden in May.

The planets twirl to notice you in the garden, in the Spring of noticing. Here, in the garden, we notice the planets above as they resolve to revolve around the Earth. We see the results in the garden of Jupiter, Neptune and Venus. Love is in the garden of May, for she saw the moon. In the garden by night she shines down brightly in your face and Luna was her name. Plants of love have a different form and the planets have known this for years, they entwine and grow through your heart. Roots take shape of another name and give direction. Involving your form, the plants grow around your internal organs and through you like ivy, clinging with anchor roots as they climb out all over you and over your face. As you stand there for years, with a heart grown garden, other plants form and propagate around you. You are roses to the heart and your veins are ivy to the tree roots. Big, gnarled, old, roots like varicose veins in your leg, have long since overgrown, you. The twisted and tortured, Earth bound plants, form the plants of love, just the mere foundation of your roots.

Plants are there for God's Divine garden. We know our roots like the trees know their leaves. The roots are established in the garden. The planetary forest of your garden is your planetary guide to Heaven, a Universe in the knowing. To enter the forest is to enter the moon and a transfigured night. You are in joy in the forest as Spring took you, there. A forest, Heaven, are the trees, in the walking, through, your knowledge of trees, where forest plants have ancient breeds of tree, to know, they walk hand in hand. Forests climb the tree, with vines and undergrowth, sometimes, venturing up, to the top branches and earthbound roots, digging deep, into the land of the forest trees, a ground, so deep. Plants sometimes venture sunlight on the forest floor of creation, where, Divinely formed, plants, grow forth. Growing, the plants grow, large and tall, with the warmth of Summer. The path walks briskly at night, for noises of the forest, scare intruders. The forest has a depth, so loud that screech owls fail to notice. The plants notice you walk. Through, an abyss of the forest floor, where you notice little of time and age, and formation, one almost forgets oneself. There is an abandonment of time and failing to realize, you are unaware, if you are standing on a forest floor or the rock of a long past forest floor, creation. Where did God take me that day?

We walk along, the path of creation, to find the plants of love, entangled in our dreams. The plant life, lines the way and the path has a Universe. The pathway to Heaven, is this way and you see the stars and the planets like comets, and fallen stars, move across your Universe, at night as though, by day. Places of the heart take you, there, to your heavenly pathway. The plants are formed by Universes, away, from our Solar System and you can see them in the distance, in a heavenly way, for God shows you, in a planetary way, our heavenly guide to the Universes, above. We are all set on a heavenly pathway. Plants are there, guiding your way as you travel that way. The plants of the forest laden your tree with fruit and fruit on the ground is for snakes. Most creatures of the forest are heard but not seen as they scurry away to safety, although, plants are the main observers and if plants had eyes they could speak. High above in the tree tops, the wind blows. Universes, away, you would imagine we are noticed, but not observed. The love plants, in the garden of creation, inform God, we are not gods only his blessing, mere mortals in the plants of earth. Plants are part of God.

+

6.

Nicole Page-Smith, 

6.

Deer of the hay are near. Plants of the garden trespass. The Seasonal hay of May is near for love and gardens. The planetary time that Heaven, obey, spent time, in the garden, of May. Forests and trespass of foot had trespass traipse, through. The garden of May is not to be walked through or visited in the Seasonal hay. The forest is for the frolic to play. Deer come forth. To the Seasonal place, of a Spirit for worth, Spirits of May, frequent the forest and notice you in the garden. Heaven is in the garden in May and golden are the fruit for folly and May. The fruit fall. The tree is golden and laden is her fruit. For love and time in the garden and stolen are the fruit of golden worth, do not bite the apples of golden fruit in May. The golden tree does not respect visitors, the golden house no tree has neither respect for golden worth. Golden is Heaven for love. Deer are plentiful in May.

 In the garden deer stand forth and in the shadow of your mind, the forest and, garden growth take the fruit to ripening. Dark is the forest and cool is the air, during the day, of May, through to September, where days of Summer heat have you find shade. Ripening fruit smells pungent and soon drops to the ground, it is cool in the forest, in May. The coolness of the forest finds the dying and rotting, fruit and vegetation, trampled, underfoot. The gardens surround the forest where deer and creatures, of the forest, frequent, during the day. Blue is the sky of May but with storm clouds imminent, the deer take shelter in the garden. The garden rains have trespass, near. Gardens turn the Earth to a delight. Damp hay, out further, afield has the deer come into the garden. A communication to God is by Summer rain. Deer and their young replenish and, talk to the garden. The Heaven of the sky meets their love in the garden. Gold is the ceiling of love. Our deer shine golden with the shining Sun and the rain has them glisten, further. The deer horns have stag of plenty and foal and, deer and, fawn. Horns drop down where they should stand up and then, we go to Heaven. They are dropped for him to wander and trespass, in the garden. Be sure to have the golden ceiling touched, with the golden horns, of May.

In Heaven, we see God and he touches the ceiling for us. When the sky is golden with the light of Summer breeze and whispering clouds spread across the sky, we breathe. The air we breathe is as blue as the sky and as clear as a blue Sunny day. As we reside, in Heaven, in the sky, blue is our countenance. Heaven is our sky in our heart and golden is the light, we emanate and the heart resists. Golden is the heart. Often the golden heart we are looking for is there, right next to you. The light in the heart has a heavenly ceiling. As you walk along with Heaven in the sky as the ceiling for God, the sky opens up to your light. Clouds depart and the sky is blue, for love of another, day. Golden, to the ceiling is where God touches you with the sunlight and the light is reflected in your hair. We walk through the garden. The ceiling of golden light transpires. Ascension colours reflect the golden light of Heaven, in the garden, our communication for God. Heaven is the sky. Skies shine the Heaven down and we absorb the light.

God entwines our knowledge with the cosmos and we are his planetary, guide for the garden is judged by the seed, in the garden. The planets reside in our heart, each quarter to the Earth. Our love takes us to knowledge and a garden of the knowing love. Plants entwine here, in the garden, the growth taking forth, at times. As the plants grow around, one another and allow for growth, some twist as gnarled roots may describe each, to the other, root. Big, fleshy, plants gather around big, leafed and stalked varieties of another name. The garden is connected to a planetary life too far away to be acknowledged but the plant life quivers in the wake. Plants and human beings alike are seen there, communicating to a god of some other planetary address. We gather information that way like absorbing light. Our garden requires the knowledge of God and we require his garden. Planets of the heart twirl and spin around, our heart like we are the epicenter of the Universe, where our light is our Sun. We shine for our garden plants.

If our epicenter is our Sun, we are our Universe and golden is the Sun of the world, for golden are the plants for the Sun. If we have a communication to Heaven, it is one with the golden element of God, the Sun and the plains of the fields reflect the Sun, for the sky shines forth. The grassy fields are silky and golden dry like hay, on the fields of May through to Spring, they dry all Summer long and then, are covered with Winter snow. The sky reflects Heaven, for it is blue in the sky, in May, on a cloudless day. May is the time for frolicking. The plants are fields and the seed is the grain, and well fed are the deer of May, when, we communicate our heart, away. The golden ascension takes our fields, away and grassy plains dry, for the hay, of May. Grass and hay, and fields to play, are for the merry deer, in May, where, they twirl and curl as their antlers display, a growth of ascension for deer. Fighting and rearing for the antler display, the stags, out display, their foe. Hay is the Season of May.

+

   

  

5.

Nicole Page-Smith,

5.

The sky of Heaven takes the information of the ground dwelling creatures and plants to the planets and, the gods, a Universe of contemplation and reflection of Earth. The sky reflects Heaven and the Earth reflects the Universe, the stars and the planetary sphere. We spin and twirl around as the Earth invites our knowlecge. Our communication drifts up to the planetary sphere as the Earth involves our thinking and like a reciprocal agreement of planetary information and stars, our growth is from Heaven. The gods instruct our earthly presence and we are transported to a realm of Universes for one. All Universes equal a reflection of themselves and our self. The deer wander around, in highlight of a knowing of the Earth meets the sky and their antlers incorporate the sky, pointing upwards. To Heaven, the Heaven, above and a cosmology, plants and animals, unite. We entwine with the history of our origins and our future is already determined. Light for the fields is observed, as clouds drift on past and blue is the sky, above. We are in a Universe of knowing for God and our cosmos is our home. Light particles reflect Sunlight and we reflects the stars. Heavenly particles, drift through, God's love, in your heart.

The sky is blue from the love of Heaven and God shines down on us. Our particles of love, drift upwards, to the golden ceiling, of the sky like a breeze in Summer, heat. The Sun is warmer, in Summer and the blue of the sky is noticed, by your heart, when, it is in Heaven and the Sun moves into the shade. Gardens of love transpire and the regeneration of growth is followed by the cycle of the Seasons where, growth and decay, are imminent, in the garden. Composting fruit and foliage rot away, for another garden to appear, next Spring. The strange appearance of the garden has your love plants evolved from planetary influence. Forms of garden produce can mutate and grow, and appear as they entwine, around, the garden. Ripe goads and fruits of love, drop on the forest floor and there, they can grow and develop, into other species, of fruit. The forms are noticed, in your heart as the air is noticed, in your sweet breath. The warmth of the garden has the moisture evaporate, upwards, where the sky is a treat, for Heaven. Clouds absorb moisture like tears from Summer rain, where the forest enjoys the Sun. Our rain enjoys the garden and our heart enjoys the Sun. We are a shadow for God and live in the shade.

As the clouds pass on overhead, the deer appear, there, golden in the light. In Heaven they see the deer in an organic form like the garden. The structure of the garden is looked at more closely as we transform into the organic matter of the sky, where our Spirit forms Heaven. Forms of the Spirit take shape in an understanding of where, the sky meets Heaven. A heavenly ceiling is noticed, the ceiling of the blue sky in Heaven. When your Spirit unites, with the Heaven on Earth, a union connects the two to become one, a Universe of the Spirit, within. Planets circulate our heart like the planetary element of the Sun. We feel the Sprit deer as we feel the garden formed, of our planetary knowledge of the Sun. Our Universe of love, is the heart formed of the stars, a sky above Earth's surface. Our hair, blowing in the wind has a breath of wind where, birds fly through you like the breeze. You are formed, out of the Spirit of the wind, with our hollow, ephemeral, body, disappearing, to a conjunction with Heaven. We eat our Universe, in the garden where, planets remember our trespass, the passage of our gateway, to Heaven. The fruit is noticeable on the tree of love. Spring heat, takes our Spirit, through, the wind, where, our garden, delights, in our presence. We sit and stare at the heavenly sky where, we are sprinkled with the love of stardust. All around, we notice the clouds and they communicate, various, gods. A Spring of love in ascension.

In Spring the garden comes in form, there are planets of trees and your Universe is in the garden, love in the garden is Spring. In Autumn, love sheds its leaves. Spring in the garden of creationism equals love in May and we have the newborn frolic and skip and, the foals and, fawns of deer, play, while, the stags, roll, in the hay. Forms in the garden of May are plants in the Spring of the hay. Winter sees the leaves, drop, to the bare trees, for him and the snow covered, ground, bare fruit, for the Spring. Nuts are fallen and gather, around, for the little creatures, of the forest, to take to their nest. Hibernating, sleeping, creatures rise in Spring, after battle and Spring coming rain, a storm of the plenty. Then, Spring to Summer rain clouds. Summer is play and the frolic, to the deer as they gather in the flock, in the Sun. As the Sun bakes the garden and the fields turn to hay, we are cooled, until, the month of May. Neptune is in the garden. We entwine and lose our antlers, once again, for the month of May, deer of the frolicking hay. Stags for the month of May, stand tall, all the long of May, the day in the garden. We hear the forest floor and they smell the wind, stags of the May. The forest takes our breath, away.

On the forest floor, in May, little creatures of the hay, run around the forest floor, along with, forest birds, flying to the treetops, to attend their young. Owls and creatures of the forest, attend, at night. Beware of the hooting owl and the creatures, of the forest floor. Outside, in the Spring air, by day the crooked crow, birds of the Spring and notice, fly to a fairer plain. Fields of the ground, to the notice, take heed. Fly wind, oh fly, to the meadow of choice. Fly with bird's wing and linger in the meadow. Fields of the hay and Sunshine, for the meadow, see the dancing, prancing, foe and frolic, deer, of doe and fawn, of harvest foals. We dearly love your frolic, near, and jump and skip to joy, of seed and hay. Do not enter the forest one month and that is the month of May. Of Sunshine, near and hay of plenty, for love and deer oh deer, the fawns and foals, play near. They stand alert of doe and deer, for stag to wander, near. Wander to the forest that day, for you may hear, their children, near, the children of the deer. Their antlers play in Summer Sunshine, for another Season, near.

+

4.

Nicole Page-Smith,

4.

The blue light of God travels through the fields until we see the breeze. Animals are ventured forth and we stand in the garden. The garden of Earth is God's Divine garden and the fields are resplendent with trees. Birds all flock about the seed and grain and, peck at the remaining crumbs of Earth or plant life left to observe and, where, God prevails, for their daily life. Deer flock in the West and their grain and, hay or grassy foliage to eat, is well preserved by God, the gods and, the children. Men and women are well observed in the garden of love and stand there, naked for God, naked to the sunshine and, all the wild elements of nature, God entertains us with. Clothes are for the fool but, clothed, we are still observed by God, in our naked state of joy for the field, the wind, the wild element of the sky, clouds to rain and a forest for protection. Do not venture at night unto the wild terrain of God. During our day, we sleep for peace and observe, the love of God, we are asleep in his nature and are almost, unobserved, by the dangers. The deer sleep peacefully or stand in the peace of the wind and the rain. The deer smell us coming and scurry, hither and, thither, the flock, disperses and smell like rain. Clouds and thundering, rainclouds spread lightening onto the field, where, a tree is no shelter from the rain. A rainbow appears, in high, Summer and we are all of the clouds and the rain. A pungent smell of rain, fallen after rain, gives the Earth, a scent of Heaven. We are in love with God. The sky moves West, to observe, the rainclouds.

When, the hay is dry, with Summer wind, deer frolic by, they frolic, where, we are wind, for them, with our Spirit wind. Often, you find yourself drifting with your thoughts, where, the wind currents take you, away, over the lands, to your destination and a place known to your Spirit. May the wind, trespass and carry you there, to the home of the wind. The winds, bring in a scent, of the incoming rain and where, you are to transport, yourself. Listen to the wind and feel the soul and, smell of the Spirit's self, transported by the wind, the smell of rain and, salt air, spray. Drift with the Spirit wind and smell of Summer rain, the scent of Seasonal fruit and, foliage, the garden of Earthly desire, meadows and, fields of desire, for the rain. Our deer and golden meadow are one. Clouds, blow on by, over the Earth, they cast their shadow from the Sun and rapidly move along, the field's growth, dry hay to the wind. Seeds swirl about and ride with dust storms and, blow away, with the wind. We smell the rain and all is settled to dust. Spring winds, bring forth the rain and then, blue is the sky, above. On a cloudless day, the deer walk on by, to Summer and the scent of hay.

The wind is blue, with a cloudless, light, reflecting, Sun and field, above, where we are one with the hay. Golden, transported and in love with the Earth of another, day, the deer frolic, in May, with antlers resplendent. Our brother love, with love, all around and swirling with the wind, of whirl and swirl, and whirlpool, for the merry month of May, the deer are to be noticed, just watch the red one. The deer of notice, frolic on by, for love and trouble, in May, we love to love our deer of May. Sow the thoughts, of May. Now, troublesome deer have help from Earth. Take your love, away, to the heavenly, abode, of love. Our cloudless sky, in May, drifts on by. Clouds take love, away. Rain is resplendent, in May. Shining, bright, is the hay, with rain and shine, in May. Twirling like the wind and clouds, we turn and, twirl, to God. Our antlers show the way, to the sky, on a blue Summer's day. Hay and whirl and, stir. Our thoughts, drift on by like rainclouds. Summer is the day.

Drifting to the cloud of thought, we wait for the planets to arrive. Twirling and swirling in contemplation, our ideas drift up, towards the sky. When, you look at God, he answers your call. The sky responds and the clouds, retreat. In Autumn, you see the mists roll in and the clouds, lower, to the ground. Frosts and fog can be noticed, hugging the ground and it is a hoary frost, in May. The straw and hay of the fields, warms up, with the Sun and there, the damp earth, reminds you, of Summer hay. We take our thoughts, to God and are stars for him, there. The deer and the garden hare, traipse, through. Gardens of Earth and delights of a garden based in May, provide fruit for the hay and, the May birds. Full fruit, of planetary worth, drop and scatter, the floor of ground and, Earth and, hay. We trespass. The stirring life, of May, is life, for the Seasonal calendar. Our planetary thinking is governed, this way, for the merry month of May, to the love of God. We are the foals and fawns of doe in the deer and stags, are blessed, standing, near. Oh, the merry month of May.

Merry are the deer of the hay, they jump and skip and, frolic, in the hay, in May, we see their evidence and, I love the deer of the hay. We ride a time where, there was a May and planetary advise with antlers entwined. The sky looks down, from God on high and we see her, the Heaven in the sky. We see her, all around in May to September, where, the Summer months, expire. The deer, quietly, enter the forest and graze in nearby, clearings, the plains of furrow and, worth. As Autumn collects her worth of fall, leaves celebrate her name. May is to be restored next September. The deer, rest and play, in the forest, until, they are welcome, in Spring air. Gardens are of organic worth, until, nature, calls again. The Seasons play with our mind. Of nature for God, is a Heaven of worth. The deer enter their home and the forest is asleep, for another, year. Deer are home to the forest and the plants enter their phase of being, nearby. Antlers entwine, to communicate the growth and we see the raised, sheltered by the sky, for Heaven. 

+