She has crescent eyes, like the moon
And ocean hair, like rays of sun:
And when she talks, she talks with you -
Like windy rain that skies sway from:

Her shoes dress red, like her lips
All filled with roses and more red,
Her teeth are white as eyes stay lit;
And when she smiles I smile ahead:

Cherry roses, the cheeks are warm
Budding flower, eye creases bloom:
Happy lover, my heart flares fire
Love fills your eyes, eyes fill my room!

Was it not yesterday when we fell in love?
Was it not that night in summer just me and you?
Oh dear, have I reclaim'd my lost lover-bug?
Another poem for my dear sweet you:
Miss Lover Lady, where travels you now?
And what woman or man have you embold'?
And brown hair, so beautifully brown,
A brown that seeps into parts of my soul:
Ah, everything! Everything that is there
In the world will match not up with your eyes:
And Lady, when great universes stare
They too would get lost where the green flares lie.
But gone Lady is, by morrows of time;
And falls lover's truth withal lover's rhyme.

Blissful,
   Blissful,
      Blissful,
         Fall the starry skies:
      And the clouds that chime above
      In night time do the otters cry
         And wolf-men shout beside the dove:
      
      Angels sing in pockets queer,
         Fairies dance along the spark,
      Boughs of faces soon appear
         As branches watch throughout the start:
      
      Owls sing as crickets please,
         The moon lifts her vision for the sky,
      Blissful,
         Blissful,
            Blissful,
               Fall the starry spheres:
            For every moment of the night.

By midnight shine of streetlight glow,
On streetlight road fell citrus snow:
The chalky streams and powdered tides;
The tangy shores now come alive:
And to ignite the ember'd brook,
A cloudless clime so tender hook'd.

The night of sweet persimmon air,
Of quiet trees in quiet flare,
Instead of cold, white, winter blaze
My sleepless night soak'd auburn haze;
And sleep made be the dreamy flight,
The streetlight road ran just alike.

And this for me the lunar blue?
Some felon crime of citrine hues:
A nameless joy abstracts the heart,
Serene it is and set apart;
On streetlight road I met a truth:
And seamless be its natured proof.

No day is nicer than one spent with you
No night is colder than one without your warm
The stars in space, they shine brighter and brighter
But when next to you how easy I scorn:
The waves at sea, they sway and they sway
And up about our boat of love:
Wooden planks and a bucket for waste
And all our loving will float above!

Beautiful, like ocean sky
And daily like the sun and moon:
Setting clouds, the world heads by
In jaded eyes of us and you.

Winter fell like a short man's thing—
Too fast and well for us to see:
A gold-ring'd tool that mends the bell
And sets the fall of snowflakes free:

And autumn drained its leaf too quick,
Its tepid branch gives one no fun:
And almost brown the eyes could trick
When stars themselves spill out no sun.

And spring had sprayed such bad delight
In flowers eyes cannot see well,
And plants and trees sit back uptight
While sneezes mark the seasons well:

Now summer's here in aftertaste,
In sweat of bosoms and bricks nigh:
And oozings out of all man's face
That roams this earth thereon by.

Thou art fairer than the sun's divide!
Perhaps rarer than an ocean's leap:
And wild, wild like the ******* bear
In moments, in times of disbelief:
And the hornets - by the woodland air -
How they've all fallen by your own two feet.

Like the icy lakes of frozen fish,
The solid ponds, the gaggle of geese;
It would seem a beauty does exist,
nonetheless, in the quiver of trees:
The winter flora; this snowy 'byss:
All by your sadness - by your teary fleet.

And when the stormy shore subsides, and
Eastern breezes bring a balmy blow,
The skies in blue more brightly shine, and
Fulfills my eyes your mystic glow: oh
Whatever else may be sublime, an
Intense passion to forever show!

To the window sill that lays out the street,
And gentle raindrops that expand the night
And dust of skin where at the corners creep
And four happy children that play outside:
More nighttime autos that bustle the floor
Under quiet stars below lantern heat:
And waning lamps that dim the houses door
And the sullen clouds that eventual sleep:
With calling mothers for their children young
And teenage men play their music and ride
With grandfathers old and lonely in sleep
And frightened boys that in their bedtime cry.
Then a poet that on his third floor sees
The entire world from his window keep.

I think I found a beautiful one,
One with eyes that sparkle beautiful none,
My, oh my, the way she speaks,
And eyes that cannot let me speak,
I think more than cats have got my tongue,
When she moves away like none,
Her sound like water in the pond,
A drip, a drop, surrounding one.

The way she moves with her voice and her hair,
It's almost like she knows I'm there,
Her voice so dreamy with eyes that match deep,
And her skin so soft like downy on sheet:
I think I almost like her there,
When she moves with her silent hair,
It to me sounds like sheep,
Counting away the days we'll meet:

The busy breath of a city north:
                                                        Toronto,­ by Ontario shore.

Untilled language that supports no tone
A sleepy job that no skills display:
Poor poet who has lost his song
Sits in blue and writes away:
Sad poet, too poet you be-
Too poet you are, too high your desire;
The intrepid poet, not given to know
Any song that should inspire.

Alone the world has alway' been,
In cold the space where planet bend,
Next mars or pluto lit between —
But none would ever bother them.
Then stands alone this human being
And wonder where he'd travel then:

He flies to worlds beyond the stars,
Can mend the dream before his will,
Can think of ogres, wizards all;
Can think a way into a thrill:
But further down he might recall
Where evil hides and watches still.

While mission plans fall on a whim,
And rarely do they e'en come true,
Man revisits one for him —
And hopes that someone listens too:
Like father to us all children
And mother like the earthy moon.

the staring back sky
translucent eyes, road lights neath
invisible deep

I think our love was endless love
And deep it was as oceans dwell:
With waves that hit the shores that arch
That hit our home or citadel:

The moss-stone bricks tell'd tales of love,
Each cloud a kiss in summers wade,
And lay there once a lady-dove
Whose heart is mine to now replay:

When kisses sent the swift-ends high
Like windy boos from jealous eve,
And star-lit skies reopened high
To watch our love in cold reprieve:

And garden grasses grew greener for her
And tulips bloomed to shine her way
And memories last the all of her
When this love tip-toes away.

Look no further than The Westwood Winds!
Near the westward sky in the western sphere:

Where the sun has interest in your eyes
Like a lady's smile should her lover near:

Just past the trees grown medium-height
Over houses brick lie the treeline base

Just through black-tip wires sit with birdies tight
Where lakewater dwells in a creeky wake:

He might stop and dream of ponds
To sit and play with forever eve:
He might sit with trees till summer's day
Or maybe swim with many fish
Or touch the sky with his geese
Maybe he'll play with spiders nigh
Or creep along with midnight bugs
On his road might he run—
With stray cats that nightly come
Or sit along with navy trees
And dance along the flowers fun
Might he chat once with a moon
And ask it why it shines so white
Or talk with grass why green it grows
Or talk with spirits all through night.

Here it is, amidst coward days:
The bleeding yellow bears our life:
And sawn about its yellow face
The putrid oak and yellow sky.

There goes one bird, 'top yellow tree,
He sings his tune of yellow well:
"O' mossy stone, O' mossy leave;
O' marshy pond, O' sun of hell"

And **** controls the centre road;
The geese instill a command high:
And yellow rots the air we blow,
If orange peels had rotten by.

And yellow bends the faces rude
Which chatter in this chatter-box,
And once blue tide that is not blue
Has soured well and wrong enough.