kid poem

winged shadows sweeping by
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
do you hear the rain?
burly, dozing humble-bee
the swan existing
all those treasures that lie
he'd even have his joke
the ships are lying in the bay
here falls no light
gone are the three, those sisters rare
the sun is up
the long resounding marble corridors
little gate was reached at last
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow