Now when thou be one with Earth and its Spirit,
Freed from Albion island full of sly plots,
Cans’t thou hear nature song and spear it
Shaken soul, so sorrow turns blank page, naughts
And buds new thoughts to spring tied orphan verses
Amidst aerial birds, rippling rapids,
Whirled currents, snow crowned peaks, raging seas
And grow love by the river Styx whose seeds
Grow tall pines where thy wonder in shadows
And clads time of our presence in allure
Whilst laurel sonnets eat night with dirge woes
That keep losing hours and days with no cure;
Love, thee makes me absent from ticking times
as in spell; Let me wed mine with thy rhymes.

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