christmas poems

for truth, for love
long ago, in the young moonlight
she might have known it in the earlier spring
a flying word from here and there
babylon-where i go dreaming
roses and gold
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
i burn no incense
melancholy, blue it was
night was black and drear
quietly, with reverance, in awe
for these white arms about my neck
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
as a naked man i go