When I was a windy boy and a bit
And the black spit of the chapel fold,
(Sighed the old ram rod, dying of women),
I tiptoed shy in the gooseberry wood,
The rude owl cried like a tell-tale tit,
I skipped in a blush as the big girls rolled
Nine-pin down on donkey's common,
And on seesaw sunday nights I wooed
Whoever I would with my wicked eyes,
The whole of the moon I could love and leave
......
1.
Oh yes, friend! I'm crazy-
that's just the way I am.
2.
I see sounds,
I hear sights,
I taste smells,
I touch not heaven but things from the underworld,
things people do not believe exist,
......
The kitchen's old-fashioned planter's clock portrays
A smiling moon as it dips down below
Two hemispheres, stars numberless as days,
And peas, tomatoes, onions, as they grow
Under that happy sky; but though the sands
Of time put on this vegetable disguise,
The clock covers its face with long, thin hands.
Another smiling moon begins to rise.
We drift in the small rowboat an hour before
......
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe,--
Sailed on a river of misty light
Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring-fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we,"
Said Wynken,
......
And when, in the city in which I love you,
even my most excellent song goes unanswered,
andI mount the scabbed streets,
the long shouts of avenues,
and tunnel sunken night in search of you...
That I negotiate fog, bituminous
rain rining like teeth into the beggar's tin,
or two men jackaling a third in some alley
weirdly lit by a couch on fire, that I
......
Golden stars tell the story, of still, night's glory,
Twinkling and flashing, in the hours of dreams,
Long after the dazzling sunset, a black cherry,
Full moon's lovely as it's pouring, satiny cream.
Twinkling and flashing, in the hours of dreams,
And filling the night with a kind of black magic,
Full moon's lovely as it's pouring, satiny cream.
The smooth lakes and soft moon flowers gleam.
......
Whether in night raptures
or in the amber noonday
fancies,
The mind often escapes
to that magical place,
of deepest heart desires!
Some are fulfilled, maybe,
taking on colorful wings
like lazy summertime's
wafting, painted lady.
......
blue moon of luster
in the middle of black night
visiting my dreams
twilight of bluebirds
as rusty Mars sails on by
sapphires are pouring
invisible blooms
their fragrance emanating
......
bluster in moonlight
all around lime trembling trees
and through fragrant fields
in a far flung dream
to be everywhere at once
under diamond stars
blooms have lost petals
there's howling in the valley
......
Fiery, sunset days of crackling autumn, such colors in trees-
birds of every hue, not to mention vibrantly, cascading leaves!
The bittersweet season's lingering, like moonlight on water.