LONE FOX DANCING

As I walked home last night
I saw a lone fox dancing
In the cold moonlight.

I stood and watched. Then
Took the low road, knowing
The night was his by right.

Sometimes, when words ring true,
I'm like a lone fox dancing
In the morning dew.

 

IT ISN'T TIME THAT'S PASSING

Remember the long ago when we lay together
In a pain of tenderness and counted
Our dreams: long summer afternoons
When the whistling-thrush released
A deep sweet secret on the trembling air;
Blackbird on the wing, bird of the forest shadows,
Black rose in the long ago summer,
This was your song:
It isn't time that's passing by,
It is you and I.

 

LOVERS OBSERVED

Lovers lie drowsy in the grass,
Sunk in bracken, swimming in pools
Of late afternoon sunshine;
All agitation past, they stay totally
Absorbed in grass.

Green grass, and growing from that place
A sweep of languid arm still bare
But for a lost ladybird.
Anonymous lover brushes a dragon
Fly from his face.

Brief thunder blossoms in the air,
A leaf between the thighs is caught
And crushed. Love comes like a thief,
Crouching among the bruised and broken clover.
All flesh in grass.

 

(Untitled)

If mice could roar
And elephants soar
And trees grow up in the sky;
If tigers could dine
On biscuits and wine,
And the fattest of men could fly!
If pebbles could sing
And bells never ring
And teachers were lost in the post;
If a tortoise could run
And losses be won,
And bullies be buttered on toast;
If a song brought a shower,
And a gun grew a flower,
This world would be nicer than most!

 

(Untitled)

This little spider,
His name is Paul;
He loves to crawl all over my wall.

This little spider,
His name is Bhim;
His legs are quite long,
But he doesn't swim.

Here's a third spider,
Her name is Sue;
And if she gets hungry,
She'll eat those two!

 

Note:
These poems are taken from:
'The Lamp Is Lit'. ISBN 0-14-027804-4. Penguin Books.
'Delhi Is Not Far'. ISBN 0-14-024606-1. Penguin Books.
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