The shimmer of a shadow on the crisp green wind,
The folds of a flower open to the sphere,
The great billows undulate with unquenched zest,
The bark and the leap and the whirl,
Girls twist and twirl , capturing every moment of delight
In the blind man’s sultry eye.
It gasps and shivers, the mountains quiver,
With the feel of the cool grey ice,
My feelings are left to the old brown fox,
Who swings in the cool trunks fire.
Where is the heat and the liquid gold,
Which melts the parading swans,
The cat may call but to us it wins in the feel
Of the night
In the red gleaming slice and the look
Of the blazing dawn,
Where can I find my endless need,
In the wind or the empty balloon?
Where does the wealthy bluebird fly?
On a broken midnight dream,
By the crackling glass can it be,
Or the part of the star filled with sand,
Perhaps in the door with the light I shall find
My week of unending pride,
And the tan of the palm and the wash
And the crash of the drums on the beach,
Is it real what I say in the midst of the day
And am found in my arms, I am yours,
Will you take me in fear
To the night room and lear,
At the streamers and cups and the toil,
For the rainbow in time in the clock of my heart
filled with night.
Is my cup filled with gold,
Or my feelings untold
And my farce needs the cold of the spring
Or the colours of snow where together we go
To the landslide of buildings in the sky,
With the gold and the red and the blue,
To the jangles and the jingles and western eclipse
As together we hitch out the feat of the laughter,
And turn out the sound of the polar night drips.
The deep sleep ripping the soul apart,
From the life of the heart and the body
And all is forgotten in the blue merry-go-round of life.
