Goldcurl Poem by Pierre Rausch

As these do not appear
Not your face to be-tear
Nor sunlight on a broken column
Ends thee swinging autumn
More voice shall be ringing
After dark the wind singing
Rough and distant scars
Youth a fading star
Gold-curl come more near
On this kingdom's pear
Let's dance for the biggest prices
Dove's wilful disguises
Chicken on crossed staved
Under the wind, the wind shaved
Rush to the final meeting
Loop back to the first greeting
You are really far
As it is your best friend
Near stoned image hand
Never to receive
Ease the supplication of a thieve
May twinkle at my shady star
At the hour where we are
Real trembling tenderness
Your lips could kiss to confess
Golden curls- the prayers on them broken stone
Other eyes were not my home
Last are meeting faces
Do grope together these aces
Concert the weather and our rivers
Up the beach beside tumid river
Real loving some phantasm
Love descending sarcasm
You are really far (some twilight kingdom)