I find love in defining the rainbows,
Occurrence of raindrops,
First autumn leaves after wavy summer,
Where I seek affection in narrating the tale,
What wind whispers to mighty sky I only hear hoosh across
Tweeting her lover, woodpecker on tweaking branch.
Thus to me Love, leaving mesmerized blue green ocean,
When eyes closed no wonder where my heart lies.
Come, said my soul,
Such verses for my body let us write (For we are one),
That should I after death invisibly return,
Or, long, long hence, in other sprees,
There to some group of mates that chants resuming,
(Tallying Earth’s soil, trees, winds, tumultuous waves,)
Ever with pleas’d smile I may keep on
Ever and ever to the verses owning -as, first, I here and now,
Signing for soul and body, set them to my name,
There is nothing to be afraid of,
it is only the wind
changing to the east, it is only
your father the thunder
your mother the rain
In this country of water
with its beige moon damp as a mushroom,
its drowned stumps and long birds
that swim, where the moss grows
on all sides of the trees
and your shadow is not your shadow
but your reflection,
your true parents disappear
when the curtain covers your door.
We are the others,
the ones from under the lake
who stand silently beside your bed
with our heads of darkness.
We have come to cover you
with red wool,
with our tears and distant whispers.
You rock in the rain’s arms,
the chilly ark of your sleep,
while we wait, your night
father and mother,
with our cold hands and dead flashlight,
knowing we are only
the wavering shadows thrown
by one candle, in this echo
you will hear twenty years later.
I haven’t only been raised & taught,
also learn to forgive.
Don’t hold grudge
will harm you much
which my mother showed enough.
You can not control others
yet your senses will drive you there
if only you learn to be kind,
But don’t be-fool underneath words
keep an open mind
when you left alone.
It won’t be the end of your world
as you haven’t seen around,
Time has come to pack your bags
you’re old enough to walk yourself
take a halt when feel tired
but don’t set yourself for yet to seen.
I may not kiss you on depart
because I’ve witnessed chivalry in your heart
all along which been compassion in my zest.
Now there is nothing wrong with me
Except — I think it’s called T.B.
And that is why I have to lay
Out in the garden all the day.
Our garden is not very wide
And cars go by on either side,
And make an angry-hooty noise
That rather startles little boys.
But worst of all is when they take
Me out in cars that growl and shake,
With charabancs so dreadful-near
I have to shut my eyes for fear.
But when I’m on my back again,
I watch the Croydon aeroplane
That flies across to France, and sings
Like hitting thick piano-strings.
When I am strong enough to do
The things I’m truly wishful to,
I’ll never use a car or train
But always have an aeroplane;
And just go zooming round and round,
And frighten Nursey with the sound,
And see the angel-side of clouds,
And spit on all those motor-crowds!
When broken pieces of mine were falling apart
I held them back with both hands.
When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain,
Before high-piled books, in charactery,
Hold like rich garners the full ripen’d grain;
When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love;–then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.