Dawns Angels
In the shower of dawn's
Slow daylight, kissed by
Angels locks, there came
A wave of bird sounds,
Then barking crafty fox
And I in nature’s orchestra,
Amid the fusty scores, the
Sound of waking voices,
Pushed slow through leafy doors
Then carried these across
The plain and back by echoes
March, not stopped by winter’s
Cudgel, nor bending bough
Of larch
So trickle me, streams water-
Hand, and babble to the brook
And hold me fierce like laughing
Giant, holds page of nature’s book
And I’ll not stir to country leave
For city's wicked grip, for there
The rasp of bloodless wind, sends
Out the its wiry whip
So build the wall’s bucolic fort
And wrest me all the more,
Where chick and weasel miss
The stare of eagles’ horny claw
And if one morn through mist
And rain, the tocsin sounds
Its bell, remember me o’er styal
And dell, so far from city hell
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