AFOOT and light-hearted, I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me, leading wherever I choose.
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune--I myself am good fortune;
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Strong and content, I travel the open road.
The earth--that is sufficient;
I do not want the constellations any nearer;
......
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
......
Late, late yestreen I saw the new Moon,
With the old Moon in her arms ;
And I fear, I fear, My Master dear !
We shall have a deadly storm.
Ballad of Sir Patrick Spence
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I
......
When the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride,
He shouts to scare the monster who will often turn aside.
But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail,
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
When Nag, the wayside cobra, hears the careless foot of man,
He will sometimes wriggle sideways and avoid it if he can,
But his mate makes no such motion where she camps beside the trail -
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
......
I was a cottage maiden
Hardened by sun and air
Contented with my cottage mates,
Not mindful I was fair.
Why did a great lord find me out,
And praise my flaxen hair?
Why did a great lord find me out,
To fill my heart with care?
He lured me to his palace home -
......
The fire burning within,
of a once romanticized night.
The machete now lies in my palm.
The glistening of oozing red,
slick as the night’s rain,
Only to wash away,
the sin.
The hour resides, the cold shower,
to cleanse the heart,
and it sits on my shelf.
......
Tommy Tucker was a youth of slight build, seeming younger than twenty,
Which was Tommy's true age; like a lone, silver star, apart from the plenty.
Tommy was well known for his great singing voice, so silky and stunning,
That people paid to hear him croon; like honey throated bees, humming.
But, as it wasn't enough to pay his bills, Tommy retained his daytime job;
As lilies hold their place in lemony sun, in fields where beauty is mobbed.
Fortuitous fate frequently fetched friends, some blooming, fuchsia Fridays;
......
This Sunday,
Before noon,
In my community church,
Wedding bells ringꓽ
Rosemary,
Daughter of our land,
Weds!
Grand invitations
......
I was a famous, American actress, who adored performing for live audiences,
In stage plays, both modern and classic, like velvet time, which often rushes.
Rose acclaim filled long, chaotic days, of colorful masquerades and fulfillment,
Like Sleeping Beauty crimson butterflies, on a first flight to sweet enrichment.
I admired the other actors of my troupe, since we worked quite well together,
As the humming, red-tailed bumblebee, is ecstatic, in fields of purple heather.
Fancy flowers flowed to fragrant breeze, as friends filled finest summer hours,
......
Saturday is native to weddings and ceremonies
Of anxieties – patterned in coarse sputum of rain.
My friend Bonsy and his wife filled the calendar
With the uselessness of time, levelled against waste
As indicated by the clocks of dew-coated pavements
Of our yawning city.
Next to this was the arrangement of formalities which
Came with the attainment of stress. They haggled
Between themselves, the celebrants. Oh well, they haggled
For the benefits of the church from which the organ must
......