The moon is out of reach despite my need
to pull it from the space it occupies...
I tried to spark the sun at night,
But found the moon a stubborn foe...
what bloody carnage
would love's labour cost but for...
I have never been the one to keep you warm,
Or stop the river freezing between your banks...
Where are you now, my little one,
And are you resting comfortably...
If fortune favours multi-rhythm words
By counting syllables amongst its boons...
Tail bent and buckled
Body painted with tyre marks...
I dreamed of wisteria -
she, of jasmine...