Backwaters of Avalon
My heart sank, a twig caught its tail
My legs shook, declining orders,
When you wondered what could I ail
I could think nothing but blunders.
And then my blood rushed to my face
obscuring my view and my way.
Lost sight of objects round the place
the world seemed midnight at noonday.
Though I failed myself to see things
some words from trachea did murmur.
They uttered like chords from my strings,
tuneless and full of disorder.
Is psychology winter's choice?
Or is your company snow's bless?
You might have dissected my low voice
at least bits and pieces more or less.
I ne'er favoured Freudian theory
as it raised too much attention.
You swayed my principles bleary
so now it's the best conception.
I often step on my shoe lace
thinking of you plus coming test
My heart has left its dwelling place
I still need it to patch my nest.
Ne'er was I struck before that hour
by the love that gently amuses.
Your presence, like the sweetest flower
stole my heart for your private uses.
The beauty of nature is displayed,
not through itself,
but through the creatures
dwelling within its bosom.
[This message has been edited by jamesjiao (05-30-2002 03:10 AM).]