Ashley Roque
Hello I am Ashley Roque. I am model. I am 24 year girls. i am able earn monthly 100000$ per month do you like me to friendship me.
1. Name: Ashley Roque
2. Age: 26
3. Religion: Anarchistic
4. Education: Some University.
5. Drinks: NO
6. Smoke: NO
7. Hobby: Model
8. Interested: Travel food money
9. Occupation: Model
10. Gender: Female
11. Marital Status: Single
12. Family Member: 6
13. Relationship: I am relation in career.
14. Home town: Indiana
15. Country: USA
I aimed my spyglass toward the sun
when a flower bent, as if in fun
dropped three seeds upon the earth
that sprouted, and themselves gave birth
to three more seedlings; soon the field
gave up what it had to yield:
flowers dancing everywhere
in summer sun, not a care,
every one a fragile smile…
Ah, but what a season past –
when a flower bent, as if in fun
dropped three seeds upon the earth
that sprouted, and themselves gave birth
to three more seedlings; soon the field
gave up what it had to yield:
flowers dancing everywhere
in summer sun, not a care,
every one a fragile smile…
Ah, but what a season past –
field and flower, trees and grass:
Their splendid rainbows splashed about
the earth, once brooding, giving shouts
of joy that sounded much like me –
one echoing in reverie…
Then... a tiny glint of gray –
a shaded sigh near end of day
cycled through the dark's and light's
that slumbered through the frigid nights;
It lingered long one early morn',
casting shadows, sudden-born:
The cold and dampness seeping in
gave coughs and fevers deep within
the flowers wintering, who gave in…
I waited all that season long;
I waited for the flowered throngs
to spring anew to vibrant life:
I played my piano, I played my fife
right there - among the rolling hills –
my paisley lounge chair (they’re all there, still);
to celebrate the gibbous moons
o'er fragrant flowers that proffered tunes
for my spirit to dance upon
if but with my petal'd friends,
friends that I would surely keep
if... I did not fall asleep
Their splendid rainbows splashed about
the earth, once brooding, giving shouts
of joy that sounded much like me –
one echoing in reverie…
Then... a tiny glint of gray –
a shaded sigh near end of day
cycled through the dark's and light's
that slumbered through the frigid nights;
It lingered long one early morn',
casting shadows, sudden-born:
The cold and dampness seeping in
gave coughs and fevers deep within
the flowers wintering, who gave in…
I waited all that season long;
I waited for the flowered throngs
to spring anew to vibrant life:
I played my piano, I played my fife
right there - among the rolling hills –
my paisley lounge chair (they’re all there, still);
to celebrate the gibbous moons
o'er fragrant flowers that proffered tunes
for my spirit to dance upon
if but with my petal'd friends,
friends that I would surely keep
if... I did not fall asleep
to awaken, that cold autumn day,
to find the flowers had gone away...
So...
to find the flowers had gone away...
So...
With a banjo on my knee
I strum a song, I try to sing,
but find an apple in my throat
with which I tease a billy goat
who kicked the core on up a knell,
where it nestled very well...
I woke from yet another dream
atop a full-grown mango tree…
From here it only gets bizarre –
the mango tree could drive a car
and, in the city, steering wild,
flung mangoes at a crying child
who terrorized the elderly
munching on their gooseberries
I strum a song, I try to sing,
but find an apple in my throat
with which I tease a billy goat
who kicked the core on up a knell,
where it nestled very well...
I woke from yet another dream
atop a full-grown mango tree…
From here it only gets bizarre –
the mango tree could drive a car
and, in the city, steering wild,
flung mangoes at a crying child
who terrorized the elderly
munching on their gooseberries
while pushing vagrants off the benches
and shouting things at wayward wenches
who never leave the city streets,
and shouting things at wayward wenches
who never leave the city streets,
who window shop at Tiffany's
fancying wearing diamond rings
and accumulating sundry things
so they could shine, just like a field
and, like a wild-flower, wield
Mother Nature for a day;
have everything go just their way…
I bid farewell to city scenes;
caught a train back to my dream –
where I found a flower, gay,
fancying wearing diamond rings
and accumulating sundry things
so they could shine, just like a field
and, like a wild-flower, wield
Mother Nature for a day;
have everything go just their way…
I bid farewell to city scenes;
caught a train back to my dream –
where I found a flower, gay,
dancing on a rainy day.
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