This little book
- This little book
- holds the poems
- in which I speak
- of my stirrings and longings
- for you
- I made it like an old parchment
- and its burden
- is of autumn’s gold
- and earth’s mold
- I hope you read them
- Tho I am weak
- beauty is strong
- and their beauty
- is the beauty of lips
- that sip
- our love.