For me, the naked and the ****
(By lexicographers construed
As synonyms that should express
The same deficiency of dress
Or shelter) stand as wide apart
As love from lies, or truth from art.

Lovers without reproach will gaze
On bodies naked and ablaze;
The Hippocratic eye will see
In nakedness, anatomy;
And naked shines the Goddess when
She mounts her lion among men.

The **** are bold, the **** are sly
To hold each treasonable eye.
While draping by a showman's trick
Their dishabille in rhetoric,
They grin a mock-religious grin
Of scorn at those of naked skin.

The naked, therefore, who compete
Against the **** may know defeat;
Yet when they both together tread
The briary pastures of the dead,
By Gorgons with long whips pursued,
How naked go the sometime ****!

They laughed at one I loved-

The triangular hill that hung

Under the Big Forth. They said

That I was bounded by the whitethorn hedges

Of the little farm and did not know the world.

But I knew that love's doorway to life

Is the same doorway everywhere.

Ashamed of what I loved

I flung her from me and called her a ditch

Although she was smiling at me with violets.



But now I am back in her briary arms

The dew of an Indian Summer lies

On bleached potato-stalks

What age am I?



I do not know what age I am,

I am no mortal age;

I know nothing of women, Nothing of cities,

I cannot die Unless I walk outside these whitethorn hedges.

His bitterness fed the storm
Unsure and forgotten
She sought shelter amongst the clouds
Trapped in his image

Picturesque essence of used to be
Lost gypsy girl
Flowers blossom upon your lips
Listen to the whispers

Painted toes
Foot prints upon the sun
Leave your lipmark for tomorrow
Where the dew lingers

Crash upon an emerald sea
Summer sweet down pour
Cloud wanderer
The wind remembers

Briary trap of content
Wildfire soul
To find direction

Warmth
On the edge of a field
That flat grey sky
Slashed through with beams
Of hazy light
Little red flowers
Spreading like a sea of stars
High grass
Dark green fronds
Winding trunks of
Taller trees
Thickets of bracken
And briary bushes
All green
With leaves like teardrops
Sun upon my golden legs
And the sky
Breaking