'Tis quite balmy here by the bay
dally I may and sand I play...

Could which of nature's art, out-glow her grace?
Of silver specks in night, I start with ease...

(I)
No lovelier of cause has pen to write...

She was never one for churches;
the incense smells, clanging bells...

If I could shrink an ailing body piece
then from my chest dilute the torrid pain...

A cluster of engraved birches
personifies a love of old...

Slip away, 'tis okay
After all the years you've seen...

A brisk haze lingers on the Somme before daybreak
Silhouettes parade in ritual fashion...

Rubies are on my mind
as falling leaves dress ochre meadows and strips...

Scattered patches of broken clouds direct sight to...
Chilly showers - chilly winds; rustling leaves...

Dormant buds
await fluxing snow...

Wherein the haven, dwells my stillborn child?
The crib could not illumine gilt enough...