It’s When, My Dear

Oh, when, my dear, oh when, you come a-walking up the road,

Then everything that heavy was is now no more a load.

Yes, I was bound in heaviness, for you I didn’t see,

And this long way was heavier than heavy rocks that be.

But then, my dear, but then, you came a-walking sweet and fair,

And suns and stars were sparkling all round your eyes and hair!

A bit of bounce was in your arms, a-swinging side to side,

And then, my dear, oh then, was I awake with pride!

For oh, my dear, and oh, my love, you buoyed me like air,

And I was wholly bubbly light when you came by me there!

When everything that heavy was is now no more a load,

It’s when, my dear, it’s when, you come a-walking up the road.

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The light of life is in her face tonight.

Oh, hours, go slow!

There goodness shines, and all is fair and bright.

Time, don’t move! No!

Her lips declare that gold is ruby red.

I kiss them, yea! Treasure’s in bed!

Time, slow down. So!

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To Be A Wake Thing

Beijing is a slay thing,

A no face thing,

A base thing.

It needs re…place…ing

With men of justice,

Lovers of freedom,

Speakers of truth—

To be a wake thing,

Bright light breaking,

A human song

Soaring, soaring, soaring,

Like Hong Kong!

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Off To Choreland

Easy resting with a smile,

Every chore you can beguile—

To be a little easier,

And such good thing to do,

That all the chores will clap their hands

And say, “Dear Nancy understands

The reason we are here,

And that’s to make,

For goodness sake,

Ourselves to disappear!”

Then ha ha ha

And ho ho ho,

It’s off to choreland they do go!

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Our Balcony

My Juliette and me,

We have our balcony,

And I walk by and wave

To she who is so brave

In waving with a smile

That is her happy style.

This Juliette and I,

This fancy of my eye,

We’re glad as glad can be

To have our balcony!

Sometimes old Chan is there,

And I must “exercise”

And walk like I don’t care

For Juliette’s dark eyes.

But she, she waves a hand,

And I, I spin about,

Till mixed up is old Chan—

His brains are inside out!

Then I do go on straight,

Juliette does do a chore,

And we act like we do not see

Each other anymore!

Oh, strange is love sometimes,

When fools get in the way.

But Romeo has strong rhymes

To make true loving stay!

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My Nandal

My Nandal’s hair is soft, I swear,

And light as light, my Nandal’s hair.

Against her ear I kiss it oft,

Where there it waits my breath, not rough.

My Nandal’s eyes are brown-gold-brown,

Straight, or sideways, upside down!

And oh, the cheeks of Nandal—-brave!

So quick are they my kiss to save!

Or left, or right, they dimply claim

That I’m the stake of their love’s fame!

Not least of all, my Nandal’s nose—

It roses mine as we inclose,

And light as light, my Nandal’s hair,

So soft, so soft, so soft, I swear.

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No Rush

I am your lover, yet many days go by and we don’t even touch, nor breathe each others breath. And yet again, across them all, as through a moving wall we glance and see the one most precious of any face that’s there, the one true day-flower gliding in its own power.

Tomorrow, meetings are done, speeches are over. A lot of laughing goodbyes, then out and gone. And then, we’ll be alone, the whole stage ours. Oh, what will be your lines? What, indeed, mine? We’ll have our heads together; our lips will touch, and to no audience we’ll say, “No rush.”

Then you, perhaps, in fullest joy will cry, “I am your lover, let no seconds by!”

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