You Said

You said l praised you—

Much too much, too much.

I cease—Ah, only

Touch and touch and touch.

Now you urge more—

More and more and more!

My fingers’ praises truly you adore

That are my thoughts run on before,

With never too much, too much, too much!

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The news is all Notre Dame, forsaken in flame. I love Notre Dame, but you, you are alive, moving alongside of me.

I worship you with lip and mouth and tongue, and half-closed eyes, with the intensity of my hands and arms and soul.

You are more than cathedral. You soar with your own thoughts and desires, filling my vision. We lean together, fall together, growing great. You fill my consciousness. Just you and you and you.

We will sleep all night together. In the morning we will wake happily and cleanly into each other’s easy breath and sparkly eyes.

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Lyre and Lyrist

I take off your clothes where the moonlight flows,

I undress you with hands full of fire.

Through my fingers l watch how your soft skin glows

As l fondle my moon-lit lyre.

“Ah” is the note of you; “Ah,” and then “Oh,”

Trembling—free sky-born wing.

Too, our mouths are made true of ourselves beautiful

As clean greed is the song we sing!

Then, my hands through your hair, and my body through yours,

As the moon is shut soft by a cloud,

And in darkness we move to the muse that endures,

While the waves crash about us so proud.

On this shore by the sea we are totally free,

As we lay in this love-going moon.

While the lyre and the lyrist—it is you, it is me—

Hum matchless one magical tune!

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Loving you is good.

I love to be very good.

You love loving ne.

You, me, are the very best

Past, present, future.

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Rest, My Dear

Rest, my dearest rest your tired limbs;

The birds will sing the sweetest of all their sweet’ning hymns.

And I, I’ll speak a line or two of loveydovey verse,

While you lay back and dream all day of showers un-reversed.

See! The mist comes lightly falling, falling through the air;

The mist comes lightly falling

To cover you with care.

So cool and so relaxed you feel,

So wonderfully at ease

You know you are in Paradise with every fresh’ning breeze.

So cool so cool, so very cool,

That you begin to laugh,

Then open eyes and look at me

Till I, you, laugh and laugh!

There’s no more strain, no duty left;

Traditions sink and die.

And we have our own spirits true

To lead us without lies.

The dead are dead, they cannot hear,

Nor can they see or know,

And if they could they’d only want

For us to grow and grow.

We’ll be ourselves, we’ll reach for joy,

Live life up to the brim,

And celebrate with songs of cheer,

And be in self a hymn.

A hymn to life, a hymn to light,

A hymn to spirit free,

That to itself is true as gold,

As you are true to me.

So rest, oh, rest, oh, rest, my dear;

So rest your tired limbs.

The birds will sing the sweetest of all their sweet’ning hymns.

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The simple song

Is not too long,

But does that mean it’s great?

If mine stirs you,

Naught more need do;

Come here, and close the gate.

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Oh, Gee

Oh, gee, I’d love to see

The State upon a slate.

I will not be mean

To say I’d wipe it clean.

Or if’t were on a plate

With gravy and some stew,

I’d take a bite,

Then with true might

I’d chew and spit and chew!

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