Moon, low, moans in sky,
Sun is blood, shot over forests—
Red, burning leaves grieve.

She rides the chanting waves
At the seas horizon,
In fires of star sheen and moon shine,
Sweet Niamh of the golden hair, and aqua eyes,

Princess of the green sea turtles,
Of the coral sea grottos,
Anemone naves and kelpie skins,
Trailing the rainbow schools of the whirling fin,

The whole twining ocean globe of blue is swooning
Under the milky waving skies and unfathoming deeps,
Her laughter lighting the unremembered bottom of the seas.

Troubled waters rise—
Sands march, locust lost in maize,
Harvest moon sinking.

.
I sit on my porch, the sky is dropping
As I pour my tea.  The day was lit
With paint and brush, now my face
Is lighted by the round full joy
Of the shining moon, I see
Him in my filling cup.

Under milky stars. .  .  .
Waters slipping with the moon,
  .  .  .  Star maps of maidens.

Do you remember me?
I am fed up, strung on night
And closed in by time.
When I dine with dearest
Friends there is always a place
Set for you, there is always
A story, untold to them,
But not for strangers
Who know even without saying
What you never said to me.
My eyes are cracked dams
Above the flood plains,
My heart is dented brass,
Bent, out of gear and turns,
Mournful, dried, pocked
As rust, tarnished red,
Petrified.
If I look at the diamond moon
I am hooked.
When the flower brushes my calves
The lifting scent caresses, teases,
Rising with my memory of fire and stone.
If I travel to the balm Paris
Of the southern hemisphere
La Belle Époque is wearing your
Dress, the pampas fires and undulates
Like your hair, the Polaris star
Points at me, dreaming
Of you, dreaming,
My jewel, my,
Little moon.

kind blue water, turning reluctantly black
by dark night's persuasions,
fallen yellow moon melt in to it
embracing swiftly changing waves,
curious fish, swimming up to it
from depths hoping to get a bit of moon splash,
drama of life,continues, changing players
moment after moment...