Wednesday, May 20, 2009

a tangle of boughs

are them and nearly grumbling

let us each baby on using its gloss heart

short us the way a window lies unusual glad

or bless an old kettle that he shows

who are fine and used to good singing

and thinks everyone goes a noticed lady

among trees, new-cut to give life's

end, one for each genuine bit of how

until a thing as genuine as fear

gone up a garden of hesitant striding

every buy-out a bill of give-up

heigh-ho shall go treading,

at night, a glad glad lading

grumbling until the next thing is grown