The snowy lilies gird her pith - in wake;
bejewelled love reposed in truest sleep...

Routinely lark, though this day depth therein,
bemused as why the warbling fluter turned...

In homage - splicer of Aladdin's reel;
a bow, beneath the centered piece so drawn...

The nightfall smears a biding shade and plume
as Nyx complexed the clear diurnal day...

If soared beside a pearly cradled rose
therein a rattling joy; o' stillborn child...

This grief is told of yonder meadows green
how far - as they appear from crater deep...

Wherein the haven, dwells my stillborn child?
The crib could not illumine gilt enough...

Shall I endure her vilest winter frost
and splay archangels in the idle snow...

If the azure glow of the ocean
is summers' own liquid crest...

Intricate ruby currents emanate from your pupils
diluted from a pool of spring rosy essences...

Scouring walls
sanding hands...

A cluster of engraved birches
personifies a love of old...