traditional
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New year comes for us, not in January firstCos’ the sun moves to the zodiac of goatFlowers smile, birds sings to cheer his journeyAh…ha April came with laughter and harmony
She scans him
She talks about him
She gets to his hair
And his eyes
And his lips
But looks at them
Like they're
Her hair
And her eyes
And her lips
She's so greedy
in white she was to be in
in a different place
eighteen of the ninth
month it was to be
white as an angel she was
having papers of white
time took its time
I like the poems of yesteryearThe poems of ‘twas, and yon, and ere,The poems whose ol’ archaic tongueWas in its prime, and lo, e’er young.Their tales were spun of days of yore
This house is quiet for it knows
The little horrors it’s seen the lows
Although there are some happy days
There are more memories that curl the toes
The little girl stops and lays
