Her Mother’s Whispers

I watched four purpley gorgeous

easy summers

Sing with you in radiant time,

Sweet high moments fast gone

To some next winter’s jewelry moon;

When delirious west winds skate the sea

and storm the sleepy scar’ed iron ships

with manly perseverate pedals

of colossal cool will.

But always the heaving enormous

black diamond sky

living nightly and staying with its mother

the beauty of maternity.

Like your mother’s whisper to you

in her soft spring garden

Her falling hair, a delicate mysterious

gift of love.

Some lazy sun’s light on it,

Takes wind like a tiny luscious forest.

And you wanted yours to be motherly furls

And your whispers to be just like hers.

And you wanted yours to be motherly furls

And your whispers to be just like hers. 

Four purpley gorgeous easy summers . . .

Like your mother’s whisper to you

In her soft spring garden

Her falling hair, a delicate mysterious

gift of love.

Some lazy sun’s light on it,

Takes wind like a tiny luscious forest.

And you wanted yours to be motherly furls

And your whispers to be just like hers.

And you wanted yours to be motherly furls

And your whispers

Just like hers.