Away, sad thoughts, and teasing
Perplexities, away!
Let other blood go freezing,
We will be wise and gay.
For here is all heart-easing,
An ecstasy at play.
The children dancing, dancing,
Light upon happy feet,
Both eye and heart entrancing
Mingle, escape, and meet;
......
Too late, alas! the song
To remedy the wrong; -
The rooms are taken from us, swept and
garnished for their fate.
But these tear-besprinkled pages
Shall attest to future ages
That we cried against the crime of it -
too late, alas! too late!
'What have we ever done to bear this grudge? '
Was there no room save only in Benmore
......
In Ongata Rongai's club, a memory song weaves,
A tale of Newton Karish and daring thieves,
Late '90s, New Year's Eve, a lively show,
A sold-out crowd, in high spirits, they'd go.
Karish, unlike modern stars who mime,
With a live band and dancers, he'd shine.
From 10 pm till dawn's early light,
He'd entertain with all his might.
......
For the Marriage in Cana of Galilee
Dark-eyed,
O woman of my dreams,
Ivory sandalled,
There is none like thee among the dancers,
None with swift feet.
I have not found thee in the tents,
In the broken darkness.
I have not found thee at the well-head
......
But now I pass
graveyards in a car.
The dead lie,
unsuperstitiously,
with their feet toward me-
please forgive me for
saying the tombstones would not
fancy their faces turned from the highway.
Oh perish the thought
......
In Ongata Rongai's club, a memory song weaves,
A tale of Newton Karish and daring thieves,
Late '90s, New Year's Eve, a lively show,
A sold-out crowd, in high spirits, they'd go.
Karish, unlike modern stars who mime,
With a live band and dancers, he'd shine.
From 10 pm till dawn's early light,
He'd entertain with all his might.
......
summer tanager
a red streak into the wood
gold sunshine on green
amethyst evening
when the pale moon is glowing
weeping willow breeze
a pink and gold dream
cherry blossom petals fall
......
For the Marriage in Cana of Galilee
Dark-eyed,
O woman of my dreams,
Ivory sandalled,
There is none like thee among the dancers,
None with swift feet.
I have not found thee in the tents,
In the broken darkness.
I have not found thee at the well-head
......
There was a girl
who danced in the city that night,
that April 22nd,
all along the Charles River.
It was as if one hundred men were watching
or do I mean the one hundred eyes of God?
The yellow patches in the sycamores
glowed like miniature flashlights.
The shadows, the skin of them
were ice cubes that flashed
......
I dance in circles holding
the moth of the marriage,
thin, sticky, fluttering
its skirts, its webs.
The moth oozing a tear,
or is it a drop of urine?
The moth, grinning like a pear,
or is it teeth
clamping the iron maiden shut?
......