gothic poetry

i have heard that a certain princess
these be
rocked in the cradle of the deep
still thirteen years
in the dark and peace of my final bed
i saw the first pear
she has a clear, wind-sheltered loveliness
for these white arms about my neck
he's gone
and with the humming bird
happiness
out of the window a sea of green trees
i am the wind that wavers
when i go back to earth