Snows wrapt in valley,
Each day I return to her,
  .  .  .  Flowers in winter.

I saw a hunter by a country road,
In tandem with me he sailed as I drove.

His hoody-head set monkish to the soil
Conjured up music so soundful, sacred,
And I unmoving over a tired flesh—
Coloured vehicle felt naked and dead

For he so saintly robed and dressed to ****
In the colours of the sky prayed with wings,
My harrier, his eyes cleansed purity and gold
While mine unsightly piebald pale and blue.

But want of food dovetailed two craving
Creatures, yet, over fed I felt rusty
Below his steely hunger and what saving
Grace God might offer either mice or men.

Her gift was new dress,
Cloud spun silk, gold on her skin,
  .  .  .  Soon fell to the floor.

The darkness called me, needing me
Wanting me to follow and cover myself
And I slipped away, silently
Lost in the shadows that beckoned so sweetly
I took refuge in the fog
Whose dappled light was just enough
To lead me deeper into you

Rain dapples in fens of the marshland brooks,
Among the rue hillocks of the sapling woods,

What little peace may fall to drop the shivering
Leaves, rood of the sun, a crop, kestrels quiver

In midair, to keep as they sway into the stations
Of all minions moused who faulter in formation

And bright is birth, when night clothes the day,
As all the mornings long, song of hope, in May.

gazing upon the empty words
breathes life as once she read
words on a page of nothingness
found love there in its stead
to know his soul as he doth hers
love never accepts defeat
though distance mars the loving hearts
for ne'er the twain shall meet

She took the flower that she loved,
Planted him in the burning sun,
A desert formed around and the morning dew,
Were tears the flower cried,
It nearly died.

She took the flower that she loved,
Brought him near, into her house,
Her house was cold and dry, with no light to see,
The flower could not leave,
It nearly died.

She took the flower that she loved,
Found the place where he belonged,
Without walls, in shade of sunshine, where flowers bloom,
In peace they bear no pain,
And rarely die.

Was there a word,
Plain or shimmering,
Cast of gold and mercy,
In the bathing light of forgiveness,
Tempered with down and feather,
Wrought of worthiness and pride,
The mellow flame of tenderness
And shearing morning sun,
One tabulation of saving flesh,
The tapping root of the knowledge
Tree, the forge of stainless metal
And touch, stone direction,
One healing humour, cardinal
As blood, forceful as the salt
Journey bearing the pines
Of lodestar coordinates,
Spotting the Xanadu ex
Of the lost lovers?

Arbiter of sun—
The dogma of run on days,
White, seductress moon.

Startled ends, the consummation
Of hours, last days sparkle, begin,
I was made and I, was cast away,
Unsaved, born of oceans drowned
Pressures unwaved, unfounded
Yet strung alive, blood draining,
Torn inside and your voice, supple-
Clarion, your little hands roping mine
Subtle vines, tangled in unrest
Provisioned, sweet song, poison
Wined, what sorcerery, what shame
To forget ones grounded name,
To live, now only in shadow, sun
Only in shade where every room
Remains—
Empty, the golden light washed
Out in the seeping tides of ruin.
Though I was spent open, betrayed,
Always waiting, deaf hope listened
For deaths' floating midge of feathers
Drop, wish I never knew, never ran,
Came by you, never saw the mirrors
Ends, only wish for peace, day lights
Dull untold innocence.

Seashells and castles,
Imagination, holy as the skies,
Sea sprayed our faces.

In order the heart, keep running without knowledge
Of the living torch, of the soiling fires that wipe
Hopes memory, the boiled blood must breathe
In a sea of borders, of waves and rushing tides.

In order the heart, beats time, though it knocks,
Near breaks, as the wind that swoons is divining
Treasure, the jewel in the box of flesh must hold,
Must shore the rivers of the branching bleed.

In order the heart, is closed, and dry of touches
Towering keep, let the eye know mercy, let the seas
That travel with the bones never feel the marching
Desert, the hollow caves of the discarded lovers.