When fingertips grip with grief's amusing
And sorrow sweep the mind oppressed
Let music play my Cypress singing
To speed new sounds of chorded quest.
Joyous is life whilst summertime lasts.
Green the trees alive with Skylark song.
Aye, but nearer blows the winds that blast
And summons the tempest strong.
When the Nightingale sings
in fields alive near woodlands green
grows the leaves & trees as meadows spring
in April comes relief.
You skinny cuck of meagre roses,
Come suffuse the air with fragrant music.
Sing us out of this cave of shadows.
Speak of Pyrraph
‘Of her there bred,
A thousand yong ones, which she dayly fed'
Like a ray of moonlight
Shimmers through the sleeping jungle
So your eyes have illumined
the night of my bewildered life.
A pretty lady in Pret A Manger
glanced at me through the looking glass.
A window gaze upon her glimpse,
I caught myself in sly reflection
That adorable woman I glimpsed yesterday
Alone in the fields of Guava.
Ever since my eyes hurt sleepless.
I pray Parvati! Shiva of the Spring
I will follow you 'til the end of this world.
You who are the keeper of a deeper precious pearl
Alone just for you I will gift my amour
all the passions of my faith.
Lady please, I pray, my sweetest Ipsitilla
My darling one, my delicate charm
Come rule my restless temperaments
aside me through Siesta