Spam Poetry Challenge

T has challenged me to write a poem using a nonsense line that came to him in spam: 'Mature a tool cut through her damp forest inside'. The only condition? That the poem not be pornagraphic.

Early, she awoke, grave, mature.

A tool cut through her damp.

Forest inside,

tree without,

which would she lose for which

today?

Her stomach groaned, empty, prescient.

An anvil settled in upon her cold.

People inside,

steeple without,

would she see fingers or faces

in play?

Voidless, she advanced, an ancient.

A hammer astounded her hope.

Galaxies inside,

earth without,

is she dirt and stardust which

can pray?