Ahh yes, the sounding symphony of Barcelona.  The calming silent mornings in the awakening breathe of the stirring night.  Let’s walk through, together, and paint the picture.

Back porch overlooking trailing columns of green.  Oscillating dribbles hum in syncronic syncrasy.  It’s the last day in Barcelona.  The thoughts stir and the emotions balloon.  It feels good.  A sighing relief of wonder and awe releases slow.

Disbelief subquents as the map unfolds and the sketching thickens.  Where has life waltzed to now?  It surfs in striding through the tiding pool.  A soothing waving front conducts the cyclical clock.  Linear denotations attempt to deceivingly convolute.

The thoughts, they knead to the rounded-corners of the warped fabric.  Dictating the march, it yo-yos amist a dimensional prism.  The nonsensical premise stack their chips.  Surgance of fortitutions swellingly ensue.