They spy on me
and yet call me a spy..
lily has her head set-
why..knowledge it
is power..she give´s
a small rat like smile..
first, i become famous
and then write  poems..

Dressed in delicate sin
and cool sweet sweat
she cavorts before open
breeze and muses love
and world *******..
happy and a naked sun..
baubles and blind pearl
the swallows watching
their blister fly above..
she laughs and cries
the bright night unfurl
and the sun down..

when  then summoned to court
to explain some line you writ/wrote
on pain of death or far worse..

would you exhort the moon´s long
travail
(thro' the bars of your heart..to)

curse the rising sun with hopeless
and bitter song..or
see her as just as beautiful

in voice like angel
her love last star
the close well worth

bless the dew
the sweet sparrow
the blue earth

place your pretty
hat
smile
and venture a poet..