I sit under the Greenwood tree

I sit under the Greenwood tree

I sit under the greenwood tree

kicking around in the Amazonia

environ by the Amazon River in the vicinity. 

I can give ears to the emanation of pure liquid 

hydrogen and oxygen, from east to west,

from Atlantic to Pacific. 

I get vibes of the peacefulness, as now I am ruled out, from your imprisons of your motor response. 

I know the egress were never ringent, 

I was put on the ice in your head

but not in your blood-pumping organ. 

And that which put me to death from 

under a roof inch by inch.//

//Your every feel up have that 

sting like the bullet ants, 

Your ardency was like blue poison dark 

frog, which inundated the name of the 

game of adoreness from me. 

Your penchant was rechannelling into a 

parasites, which made me speculate that

it is scepticism on point. 

I got flustered and I beat a hasty retreat 

out of that restrain of your spiritual being. 

And punched the clock to draw breath 

here in peace. Though enclaved by 

amphibians and reptiles

But this will not be much stinging, 

like that prick you have given me in the 

form of snake bite.//

Ayesha Khalid