.
Deep in the cups of your eyes
I drink in the high shot,
Blood of sense sacramental,
Wine and veins piercing
The after loves of morning.

Lost in the reaches of your hair
I have found belonging,
Ambrosial of lark and meadows,
Like some primordial dawn,
Awakening the first lovers.

And our bodies, broke, chalk ****,
Shimmered in ghost of live moon,
Like the one white dove loosed,
Into the holy airs of flaming hope,
Above blue tranquil seas of peace.

The ocean slid with our rowings
And the air, so sweetly uncatched,
Moaned in moist heat of breeze,
Drunk in an ever last of new hunger,
Under all the heavens we plunged.
.

.
The sea is a landing,
The mountains, but ribs,
Merely brittle, sandy mounds,
That cradle and rock, my song,
The oceans, bath water foaming,
My body is all encompassed
In void, in elements of feather,
Light as the rays from the stars,
The Great Lakes are puddles,
And all bands of the ancient
Forest are wrapped in a ball,
The world is a playful bubble,
Only one note from the music
Of the spheres, a loosed bauble
Born of sparks, cosmic clouds,
Breaking in the nebulas of blistering
Iris, exploding in the joyous eyes
Of a waking child.  

                             Yet, there is only
Now, I am, locked in a dreamhouse,
By a vast sea, on old branches of tree,
And, I can only look, grow, daze into
Shut mystic heavens, and wonder.
Can I truly, only, live in dream?
My makeshift world is drying,
I am from sprinkled waters
Dropped like tears,
Graces that fell
From the sky.
.

.
With love so dear and sheerest light,
Arrived to clear moors of heart,
As it bled for near myth in fey touch,
Grained by times and dust apart,

The moon was cast as sun was shy
And rain did fall winsome, tasking,
Suddenly a meadow appeared new,
Flying colours under sun basking

And as a child once more, I became,
To feel such graces slowly divine,
No longer lost in gardens of dream,
But be rapt in broken light so kind.
.

( Song Ballad )

You say you don't understand me,
Here's a bargain for free I'll be sellin' you true ;
We'll go to a place, above the sea raging,
An' get down to what's troubling you.

When I was a lad, I remember my dad,
Would take me on walks down 'Langtrae Doon' ;
He'd tell me great stories, of sailing ship glories,
An' somedays just whistle a tune :

  *Slip away, slip away ;
  He'd say 'hopes will die chasin' the moon,'
  I'll tell you my girl, that the cares of the world,
  They don't matter much round 'Langtrae Doon.'

Rueful me mother was, six children never loved,
An' pride was offensively used ;
'You'll never amount to a thing,' she would state it,
Ashamed she was of her own brood :

  Slip away, slip away ;
  She'd say 'hopes will die chasin' the moon,'
  So but on your bonnet, I'll write you a sonnet,
  We'll get down to 'Langtrae Doon.'

Father died a broken man, just now, you'll understand,
Lord knows they buried him cruel ;
Left his debts unpaid, he never owned land,
But in his heart was 'Langtrae Doon.' :

  Slip away, slip away ;
  He'd say 'hopes will die chasin' the moon,'
  So but on your bonnet, I'll write you a sonnet,
  We'll get down to 'Langtrae Doon.'
.