Johnny's the Lad I Love

As I roved out on a May morning,
Being in the youthful spring,
I leaned my back close to the garden wall,
To hear the small birds sing.

And to hear two lovers talk, my dear,
To know what they would say,
That I might know a little of her mind
Before I would go away.

" Come sit you down, my heart, " he says,
" All on this pleasant green,
It's full three-quarters of a year and more
Since together you and I have been. "

" I will not sit on the grass, " she said,
" Now nor any other time,

If a Babylonian astronomical diary in cuneiform on a clay tablet records the observation of Halley's Comet on 22-28 September of 164 BCE, then

why not say cluster of leaves still clinging
to the tip of one branch (the others bare
that bloomed crimson last week) slowly turning
red to brown , rather than name the lover
who is not here? Why not bored boy sitting
on his front steps, sun going down over
the duplex across the street, white siding
letting direct sun send it shades whiter?
Why not savor this porch, call this warm day
girl measuring her front yard, heel to toe,
obsolete antenna on a chimney,
dry leaves in drifts beneath a parked Volvo,

The Deceptive Present, the Phoenix Year

As I looked, the poplar rose in the shining air
Like a slender throat,
And there was an exaltation of flowers,
The surf of apple tree delicately foaming.

All winter, the trees had been
Silent soldiers, a vigil of woods,
Their hidden feelings
Scrawled and became
Scores of black vines,
Barbed wire sharp against the ice-white sky.
Who could believe then
In the green, glittering vividness of full-leafed summer?
Who will be able to believe, when winter again begins

The Cunning Clerk

As I gaed down to Collistown
Some white fish for to buy,
The cunning clerk he followed me,
And he followed me speedily;
[And he followed me, followed me,
Followed me speedily.]

Says, Faur ye gaun, my dearest dear?
O faur ye gaun, my dow?
There 's naebody comes to my bedside,
And naebody wins to you.

Your brother is a gallant square wright,
A gallant square wright is he;
Ye'll gar him make a lang ladder
Wi' thirty steps and three.

And gar him big a deep, deep creel,

Young Girl

on her way to the beach,
walking daintily in bare feet
to avoid the stones

Titania's gauze
forms a cute skirt
so short
it takes the breath away
and opens in front
to admit man
to her shapely legs
walking brightly
in inexorable scissor movement
through his child taboos.

At thirteen she
already swings her hips
ostensibly to keep her balance
and re-enacts the secret
of man's bed
She smiles and shoots
implacable seduction
straight into the eyes.

The King of Scots and Andrew Browne

Jesus, God! what a griefe is this,
That princes subiects cannot be true,
But still the deuill hath some of his
Will play their parts, whatsoeuer ensue;
Forgetting what a greeuous thing
It is to offend the annointed kinge.
Alas for woe! why should it be so?
This makes a sorowfull heigh ho.

In Scotland is a bonie kinge,
As proper a youthe as neede to be,
Well giuen to euery happy thing
That can be in a kinge to see;
Yet that vnluckie countrie still
Hath people giuen to craftie will.

The Shirt of a Lad

As I did the washing one day
Under the bridge at Aberteifi,
And a golden stick to drub it,
And my sweetheart's shirt beneath it —
A knight came by upon a charger,
Proud and swift and broad of shoulder,
And he asked if I would sell
The shirt of the lad that I loved well.

No, I said, I will not trade —
Not if a hundred pounds were paid;
Not if two hillsides I could keep
Full with wethers and white sheep;
Not if two fields full of oxen
Under yoke were in the bargain;
Not if the herbs of all Llanddewi,

The Keel Row

As I came thro' Sandgate,
Thro' Sandgate, thro' Sandgate,
As I came thro' Sandgate
I heard a lassie sing,
O weel may the keel row,
The keel row, the keel row,
O weel may the keel row,
That my laddie's in.

O wha's like my Johnny,
Sae leith, sae blythe, sae bonny?
He's foremost among the mony
Keel lads o' coaly Tyne:
He'll set and row so tightly,
Or in the dance—so sprightly—
He'll cut and shuffle sightly;
'Tis true,—were he not mine.

He wears a blue bonnet,

The Lobster

Eastern Sea, 100 fathoms,
green sand, pebbles,
broken shells.

Off Suno Saki, 60 fathoms,
gray sand, pebbles,
bubbles rising

Plasma-bearer
and slow-
motion benthos!

The fishery vessel Ion
drops anchor here
collecting
plankton smears and fauna.

Plasma-bearer, visible
sea purge,
sponge and kelpleaf.
Halicystus the Sea Bottle

resembles emeralds
and is the largest
cell in the world.

Young sea horse
Hippocampus twenty

Geordie

As I came over London Bridge
One misty morning early,
I overheard a fair pretty maid
Lamenting for her Geordie.

‘Come bridle me my milkwhite horse,
Come bridle me my pony,
That I may ride to London's court
To plead for the life of Geordie.

And when she entered in the hall,
There was lords and ladies plenty.
Down on her bended knee she fall,
To plead for the life of Geordie.’

‘Oh, Geordie stole no cow or calf,
Nor sheep he never stole any,
But he stole sixteen of the king's wild deer,

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