I am wont to sleeping boy
Now the world wants men
My sheets smooth as coarse soil
Young adults must coil like rose.
Walking the altar with empty coffers
The world beheld solicitous lovers
After much wheedling and simpering
The books wide open for thrusts.
The book bagged a brood
Flurry hoopla ushered with coo
Under the warmth of an oak tree
I lurked the whistle of bill spree.
What was well one now bad two
The coquet smile now sour like lime
Now it preen upon me to pamper
And feed and fees and cerelac.
If to drive the dangerous path
And the brood not borne gold
If to chart the bale course
And he not a doctor of drugs or laws.
O virgin sun!
I know not whither you go
I know not whether the rain
Will whet your roof with kiwi fruits.
When you love you have lost
To wail, to whiff, to whimper
When you love you have won
Gardens of orchids and sweet peas.