Bees the, the, the bees
Buzz around buzz-buzz me buzz on me
Tales telling Tintagel to of me
Quiet lie I here, under waiting
...
Play me like a piano
Play me like a harp
Pluck me with your fingers
Make soft music in the dark
...
I know where Sadness lives
Among roses and the clouds
In memory-haunted houses
With long sun-stained walls
...
Designed by our top parfumiers:
a scent, most wonderfully sulphorious.
...
well hope is ok, but
when blossoms are falling
it's more fun to hop
...
Like the ripples
that follow eternally
the wise and knowing breeze
I am
...
Turning emotions into words
Is the role of the poet
The pleasure, the pain
The inevitable betrayal
...
Solitary duck
Sitting on a frozen pond
Will spring never come?
...
My sleeves are not stained
Life is arid, the stream dry
Monsoon, may be soon
...