Friday, May 22, 2015

Boscean Birthdays

Alexander, tall, proud, pronounced in green, brown
Off-white; the yellow-flowered gold of prickled gorse;
A free-singing, morning thrush, antheming; and fairy-
Robins, tits, sparrows, flickering bush to bush,
Playing hide-and-seek with black, invisible
Birds; chough, gull, soaring, calling. Such is the
Decoration of fields, fields in which white-tailed
Bunnies skip, cows, black, brown, speckled, moove,
A lone white horse - much helloed - stands indifferent.

All of these, and more: Hello Bulls; Hello Pony; Hello
Fabulous Day; I would gladly gift to you.
I would wrap them in skies: blue; grey; grey-clouded;
Misted and unseen; seen, removed from our eyes.
I would sound your birth in rough gale or silence.
And toast it, white foam, or stillness of the sea.
But it is enough, you say, as with me
That I am yours - we love; and this being so, this day
Our days, Boscean Birthdays, are forever glorious.

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