A querent's cry ...

And her laugh, as bright as the sun
in rhyme ,whispering, breezing
A blazing hearth in itself be far less smouldering;
under the filtering lights of a crepuscular dawn
like red crayon shavings ,
myriads of blossoms piping in,
and the cuckoo's ruby eyes catching flames within ;
With only the white cheeked babbett flitting
to record her autumnal auditions,
listened to our duetromony.

Like a japanese parasol , I watched her moves.
Serenading in the monsoon showers, on this damp earth.
Me squelching in the darkest hour of my deepest...