we sloop the merry moor
entrusted to the wind
forgetting now the battlements
and letters never meant nor sent
tis joy not sorrow which
weaves this stitch in merriment
folds her skirt and flies
candle lit—not betterment—
into the mystic
— We were born before the wind
Also, younger than the sun
'Ere the bonnie boat was won
As we sailed into the mystic —
toot, toot bunalanone
toot, toot bunalonone
sails into the mystic
dropping poems
in diving suits
flowers blooming from their roots
rhyming verses billowing
into the mystic
i—eee
i'm rocked
by your gypsy soul
a saxophonic mystic scroll
singing songs from jelly roll
into the mystic