[untitled]

Lost in the haze
Lost in a daze
Lost in your phrase...

It beheld me beautifully.

Does love lie low?
Lamenting loss longingly?
Lingering?

Perhaps.

Yes, perhaps proud Puck
Participated in pontificating
Said precepts.

Oh, sirs.

The phrase said nothing of
A midsummer's night.

The phrase I felt in
The feverish ferment
That februaric night:

"Forever..."

A Poem of Ecological Importance

Verdant.

God! how the fields were verdant.

I ran across them. It was yesterday.

Like a child, I couldn't help myself.

I felt the weeds and grasses and
Wildflowers brush against my shins.

I stopped to scratch my legs.

The tree caught my fall.

Oh, I stopped upon a tree, you see.

As I scratched, I lost my balance
And began to tumble.

I've quite the egg upon my forehead.

I've quite the egg, you see.

Beyond, beside, bepast, before...
Be weary... perhaps?

Behoove me belatedly,
For speaking of the tree.

A brush, an itch, a scratch
And now I've found a Tree.