Hear Ye. Hear Ye. Here we
propose to posit prose poetry,
forming forms of continuous connectivity
to communicate considerable
contemplative reflectivity.

Simply put, we pose this where
prose poetry is what you'll hear
when wondering where the time went
while reading such rhyme wonderments
as oft we've wrought, and revealed thusly;
each whit of wit written Hieronymously.

Hendrix Licks

I hope you all were listening
when whistles tickled well licked strings
with force. Of course, then birds would sing
to God with that odd warbling
sound redounding, as their heads
put awful thoughts softly to bed.