Sea gulls' song warming the air -
A grace beside the prophecy,
The early sound of an intimacy
And like a youngish dancing pair
The strange trip of a golden stair
Of who owns the mellow tones
And the silence in misty domes
Leave me semi-blind but fair.
To whom belongs those romances
-For them like a refreshing shower
And yet a will more than a power-
That sees the morn with early dances?
Over and over, I, left armor-less
Hear the murmur of a sweet singer
For the songs waken me and linger
The farthest letter of a caress -
Who owns this exuberant lawn
-A question that keeps me dreaming-
Without one eye and a silent thing
I, in hours of sleep, glare the dawn.
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