rewriting

DREAM #17,730 revisited

I dreamt of comic books in braille
and naked ladies riding snails
and trains, because I always dream of trains,
and birds that spoke of countries new
court jesters painting their towns blue
and that French film with all the kissing in the rain.

I dreamt of eyes that stole the world
and as my dream slowly unfurled
I understood the symbols I could see
at first glance each vexed up my mind
so I let them completely unwind
and each image breathed a sigh of you and me.

As Do The Flowers

oh! nature, hast thou changed thy face
for time has played its wicked hand
whereby once youth was fast in place
the aged ocean’s swept over sand
from days long past I thought eternal
my mortal frame will ne’er be saved
this debt for which was presumed vernal
becomes forthcoming by the grave
so to accept the years will sigh
as they tread with practised guile
across my footpath by and by,
and meet them gladly after a while.
For I, like all men, have my hours
as do the birds, the trees and flowers.