posted on April 24, 2015 at 4:34 pm


i dreamt i was a tiny man acorn born

under gods bluest sky i lie in gilded lily light

harnessed to the clouds i drift over asia minor proudly

or burrow beneath the firm and fruitful soil

narrowly daisy framed in seed and nut

i am that little sprite a flightless wingless thing

inklings of egret

i read the mind of a bird

see from its eye

high above the rolling steps to the sea

dive falcon falling stalling in thin air over just over there

i am that selfish elf that dwells in winter in warm room

dug beneath the tomb of a saint

i am that earthy spirit in the black graped wine of another china

i pine for the fir cracked by cruel axe

a naiad bride who lays on her side in my rivery bed

twin daughters in gold i am told they cannot be seen except by the very young

or by the very old

identical voices untrammelled  in youth

one is life

one is truth

warming sun come down when they are around

hawthorn hag and brambled blackberry

a little factory producing sweet flower

bees humming languidly i am free to attend on thee

in my dream i was finning it with a childs story fish

i rode a great carp

and my harp was fashioned from india and ceylon

and even beyond

dale and dell all tell the same tale

mannikin errant

i cant even remember my name




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