i
how like a napping innocent
the song was stolen away
when i my reason bribed
could not find where i belonged.
a patch is made of unrimed rime
and *** by *** it tore away
telling awhile
never will, you may.
i groped. you lingered
you waned. i waited.
when i would
to the solitude of
the rocks have gone
alas!
i found,
the singer of the song.

ii
bend bamboo
to the gusts and gails
that sweep, sweep.
swing back to whirl again
as the winds its fancy bend
so do – ne’er complain.
on windy ludes
so low you bow
after you kissed
the earth below
embrace you the sun.
sing now you violins
the rustles of enchantment
of dancing toes
it’s a mellow melody
… lingers on…

iii
useless are
the wings of birds
if the wide and brimless sky
to them are yet untold.
if none to care
and none to pine
how can a sign
of triumph bare
as birds and sky
as twains do share?

iv
full moon and empty arms
for every setting sun?
i fled thy silvern chatter
of vanished cries
and curling past.
suns have gone now.
and seeking never find.
no moon and empty arms
but when were you
not starbeam
and when not star
not beam.
if you could be
but how!
if you could see
but now!

v
came here, but,
did not tarry long.
a handful of sand
a greedy grip
a clutch, and,
through the fingers slip
till naught is left
but an empty grip.
she is come
know i
when gone.