He dipped a pen into the ink
and let the letters flow
like running a finger down a mink
forming blackbirds in the snow
the liquid flowed in courses deep
betwixt the fibrous path
on either side an ivory heap
as plaster 'tween the lath

the letters had a life their own
glinting in the sun
as shiny beads or poppy seeds
sprinkled on iced bun
and then, as corn, newly sown
choreographed as one
the letters marched, in unison,
as soldiers with a gun

each distinct, they swayed together
as wing compos'd of feather
the harmony of black and white
milk stars on velvet night,
and then, just when, all was right,
they vanished all together,
as all at once, they took to flight
and flew into the ether.

and now, each night, when all is still,
they visit me in my dreams,
those raven-black letters of quill
dance wisdom in moonlight streams
as homing pigeons coming to roost
coo mysteries in the dew
as prancing horses newly hoofed
flashing waves of sea-green hue,

and as young maid new seduced
'neath heavens of sky-blue
where rainbow colours introduce
soft butterflies flying through,
wherein conception, zen-induced,
old friends appear as new
i lend my ear to hear produced
their music i once knew

when pen in hand i sought to spill
the secrets hidden 'n true
of why the very highest hill
is home to lowly shrew
and why from ash beneath the grill
a phoenix wakes anew
and why the soul allows its will
to bivouac in corpse shoe.