i miss you poem

which i wish to remark
this is the song of youth
i have heard them in the night
i had over-prepared the event
therefore i may not
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
passing through huddled and ugly walls
there were three in the meadow by the brook
when the wind works against us in the dark
melancholy days have come
were it not for that singular smell
lo! 'tis a gala night
gingham dog and the calico cat