Beneath the willow you will find

Peels of flesh and grapefruit rind

A pang of sour hits the tongue

Bitter pith of iron rung

And soon in verses worth your while

‘pon the pillars we defile

Mounted steeds doth hurry home

Riderless as spirits rome

The mind is clear as shaking hands

For thus in desert unplanned

A rare tree, nay mirage wept

As life itself remains unkempt

Arise the maiden voyage dear

No maidens came wherefore near

The moon ‘bove doth shake its head

For wise sun’s reason weighs of lead

Whinnies hath left their wit in hay

Sand grains slip a-southbound-way

For in the quaint forgotten

A nook of mulch most mud-sodden

At last rise before the jewels

Bow before the tyrants cruel

Offer up your hand to hate

Do not pay heed of lust for fate