Oureana, young and beautiful
Rests in her den of lavish comfort,
Looks from her Moorish palace balcony,
Sipping honey from a wooden bowl.
Draped in red damask and easter green,
She watches the soldier ride below.
"Princess, do not look at him!"
Softly comes the desperate hum
Of a servant overlooked and ignored.
"Even now I wish you peace,
To hear the crack of battle nevermore."

water trembles on black lily night,
rainshowers' sudden splash wakes me.
looking from a faint orange glass,
a single star shines atop the city.
my heart sails across the stream
to the street where you live.
rain has stopped, air is clear,
I am walking on a sunlit day.
alone, I meet you; curious
we are to see each other,
like two well-met bluejays.

how is life?
well, it's good
so is mine

water trembles on black lily night,
my hands slip down the pane.
I wring the hang-down curtain,
and welcome in the summer rain.

Sun-wine on a fair Venetian morn,
where pleasant friends arrive
like fluffy clouds, the sky to adorn.

I tip the bare bronze cup of constancy—
in mirrored movements alive—
and I render new health to the company.

daws cry on my roof,
viewing musty lights
builded high on rocks.

seven towers sing
your old song, now gone:
it is not my fault.

Who can tame the winds of the sea?
None but ******, Wind-Keeper, he,
Who keeps both the savior and scourge of the sail
Fastened away in a mountainous jail,
And from that bronze fortress escapes not a wail.

Who can tame the winds of the soul?
A man with more mirth than mad Aeol.

Spring has come, and with it rain,
But yester-season's gifts remain.
Still healing sun outlasts it all,
Till fast again comes fatal fall.

...My heart is like the buds of May,
Which yearn for comfort, tucked away:
No wanting soul can know their worth,
Until, from snow, their flowers burst
With vibrant hues and youth unsealed --
That hated winter once concealed,
That hardened bark had sought to hide
-- Now springtime's stem has swift revealed:
Sweet love's abundance multiplied.

The calm September wind
Hugs seashell clacking beach,
Leaps over shaking pines,
The inland world to breach.
From blue horizons south,
Surmounts the hilly west,
So mountain-walker, water-deaf
Can hear the ocean in its breath.