Thursday 19 September 2013

So little its rending does the Veil resent


So little its rending does the Veil resent
As the Unseen to All ay represent
That Eyes might drink at Beauty's fount
Tears flow to my arrears' account.

That Autumn is-  of aught else dumb
I am Summer's worn out drum
I don't mind it's getting cold
But its doing what I'm told

Wine is bitter in Morning's cup
As is, to Anthems alien, standing up
Love's luck is that it so often die
In the bed where yet I lie.


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