The tall striped man-pole, with long wooden fingers,
Played no music sweet on a keyboard of air,
And the distant gray clouds slowly drifted right through him,
Going southwestward across the red sun,
...
Bards Of Old
The bards of old
Were very bold
In swearing love eternal.
Such vows are vain.
Let me explain
That love is more diurnal.
Fidelity
Is not for me.
I say this as a warning.
But love is new;
I do love you;
So I'll be true till morning.