I Dwell In Lonely Plains Among Hills
I dwell in lonely plains among hills -
whole, with a cloudless sky over our heads
A green veil and a path of yellow jonquils
Encircling a few slow-paced windmills,
Where melancholy seldom treads,
Allow me to gather the midday shadow
Then borrow ashen leaves on the loam
pillowed between lodging roots that grow
on the bottom of the undefiled meadow,
dissipating awareness with the foam.
Ah, so close I am from persistent joy
Undisturbed in my relentless sleep
Smiling broadly like a contented boy
unpacking the casing of a new toy,
discovered in a hoard hidden deep.
Untold dreams do not age so well
Wrinkled by the chastising disbelief,
like a unseen worm within a fruit’s shell,
consuming the core with a sinister spell,
the full harvest can be lost to a mischief.
A butterfly made a deal with the wind
Uncertain in her surety where to end,
Even if the air’s blows are swift and unkind
She will follow, colorful and blind,
whichever routes her pair will send.
|