You ask me for a sonnet. Ah, my D… Can clocks tick back to yesterday… Can cracked and fallen leaves reca… And leap up on the boughs, now sti… For your sake, I would go and see…

Alone, I whet my soul against the… Unwrinkled sky, with its long stre… I polish it with sunlight and pale… And damascene it with young blowin… Into the handle of my life I set

My corn is green with red tassels, I am praying to the lightning to r… I am praying to the thunder which… Corn is sweet where lightning has… I pray to the six-coloured clouds.

You—you— Your shadow is sunlight on a plate… Your footsteps, the seeding-place… Your hands moving, a chime of bell… The movement of your hands is the…

They brought me a quilled, yellow… Opulent, flaunting. Round gold Flung out of a pale green stalk. Round, ripe gold

I have painted a picture of a ghos… Upon my kite, And hung it on a tree. Later, when I loose the string And let it fly,

Near where I live there is a lake As blue as blue can be, winds make It dance as they go blowing by. I think it curtseys to the sky. It’s just a lake of lovely flowers

My Grandpapa lives in a wonderful… With a great many windows and door… There are stairs that go up, and s… And such beautiful, slippery floor… But of all of the rooms, even moth…

I cut myself upon the thought of y… And yet I come back to it again a… A kind of fury makes me want to dr… From the dimness of the present And set you sharply above me in a…

The fountain bent and straightened… In the night wind, Blowing like a flower. It gleamed and glittered, A tall white lily,

Leisure, thou goddess of a bygone… When hours were long and days suff… Wide-eyed delights and pleasures u… By shortening moments, when no gau… Of undone duties, modern heritage,

When I have baked white cakes And grated green almonds to spread… When I have picked the green crow… And piled them, cone-pointed, in a… When I have smoothed the seam of…

Send sunflowers! With my turkey-bone whistle I am calling the birds To sing upon the sunflowers. For when the clouds hear them sing…

MY thoughts Chink against my ribs And roll about like silver hail-st… I should like to spill them out, And pour them, all shining,

Panels of claret and blue which sh… Under the moon like lees of wine. A coronet done in a golden scroll, And wheels which blunder and creak… Through the muddy ruts of a moorla…