now i dwell
in Grand Belong
and think in song
i think in song
mystic thread
zips up my head
electrified where
gloom has fled
i’m heart-to-heart
and black is fair
i jete up to
champagne air
the dreaded
weight
of days
does not dim
this limpid face
swing the moon!
skim the stars!
shadows shiver
as I pass;
delirious
with God,
grand dance!

give me a girl
a singing willow
weeping dreams
into her pillow,
stitching stars
for troubled times
for troubled times
and blue;                                                  
we sail with her in
pea-green boats
to Jumblies
far and few

give me a girl
a falling lark
who cringes
at her sordid arts;
a girl of clay
for pity’s sake,
God, for pity’s sake;
dolls pump hearts
that will not break
and switching smiles
of silky sass,
they feed on lies
like cake.

not so distant dogs bay through streets
an uneasy wind slaps at leaves
and now a wail-whoop of ambulance gloom
loops the dying afternoon
and even in the home
from my room
the dinny grin of television
and banging doors
a dull clang of words
and the beating of my blood
at small impending dooms.
Yet.  
I am held - for all that -
shimmering-still
a castle
in the eye
of storms.
Peace is not a white flag.
its molten gold enfolds
the floundering soul -
enthrones it into
a whole eternity of
untold quiescence.

when Death calls
at the casements of this mortal home
he’ll not scythe my soul
into the black unknown -
No!
with feathered feet
and honey-breath
will dance my lucent Lord of Death
i’ll breathe - aaah! -
in bright and velvet arms
here you are
my Prince
at last