"WIELDER OF WORDS (ROBARD DE FONT LE ROY)"


Wielder of words is steeped within traditional verbs
and curiously a dented top hat
discovered in the moonlit Laundromat

A busted cheroot is smoking on the heel of his boot
His opera is torn thru' the haste of operatic oyster
eating evenings of waste

Sleek astrakhan, reclining on a chippendale stand
so sad they should be owning a man who's
thicker than the forestry from where they began.
Robard de Font Le Roy

"FROWNING ATAHUALLPA (MY INCA LOVE)"


Sitting all alone, looking at the throne of the one I used to love
Sitting all alone, looking at the stone of my lovely inca love

The huntress stands, with peacock hands she'd take me to where she lie
She sighs so deep, it rocks the river of her stomach sky

The oval moon, it tans the faun who holds grapes for my love
Sitting all alone, sitting in the throne of my lovely inca love

hare krishna

I come from a time where the burning of trees was a crime,
I lived by a sea where to be was a thing of true joy,
My people were fair and had sky in their hair,
But now they're content to wear stars on their brows.

"DEBORAAROBED"


Dug & redug & dug & redug redug.

O Debora you look like a zebra
Your sunken lace is like a galleon
Clawed with mysteries of the Spanish main O Debora.

O Debora you're always dressed like a conjurer
It's fine to see your young face smiling
'Neath the stallion that I'm riding O Debora.

Debora you look like a stallion.

"STACEY GROVE"


Stacey Grove he's a roaming prophet of mine,
Hat full of wine.
Stacey Grove he's a roving catcher of skies,
Forecaster of eyes, so no lies.

Dungaree dome is decked like a pagan temple to Zeus
He drinks acorn juice.

Roasting his feet by the furnace of peat,
He roars at the boars who massively sleep at his feet.

Antelope head his beard skylark red
Is tucked 'neath the good of his summer sun hood.
And now that the gate of his evening is late
He sits on a log picking ticks off the back of his dog.

Oh he's a nice cat

"WIND QUARTETS"


The wind quartet howls softly
My jeep hand strokes her necklace
Crusted, crammed with old Etruscan gold.

Her bird head torn with summer
Inspects a Spartan runner
Robbing time a chosen Prince of Speed

My goblet drenched with Autumn
Tears for my dead cat Ena
Silver Surfer sorcerer of spray.

She headed deep in chartreuse
A falcon glimpse of white teeth
Separated by lace cinnamon folds.

We hid and rid in hansom
Cab wrenched from lost Byzantium
Lordlett who once held the earth In chains.

"CONESUALA"


Conesuala, Lady tailor,
Weaving deep beneath the sun,
Making things for everything that run, run,

Hermitized one you're my little summer maid,
Orchard eyed one take my love

Holy Grail head, deep forest fed,
Weaving deep beneath the moon,
Quiver mouth chants a crooning moon rune.

"TRELAWNY LAWN"


The flowing mane of pain swells on Trelawny Lawn
Stark handsome eyes decide the unicorn
Is a beast of borrowed wisdom
Like a thrush in the yielding harvest field
The prophet deems snow.

The silent stork of sadness scans Trelawny Lawn
The lion, the unicorn it's horn in the lap of Beth
Laments the dawn
Beguiled, the scribish jacket-man his cap a skull-of-rat
Is but a pawn.

0 sky, your eyes embrace is to vicious for my wheat
The foaming Earthguard whinneys to his leaden feet
The bullfinch rumbles
The lavish lion aslanically scythes the hay
The unicorn bids you stay.

"AZNLAGEEL THE MAGE"


Woven deep beneath the caves of melted steel
Stalks a Mage, a necromancer heel,
Tortured runic clasps of Aztecetian skill,
The condor flies scared skies in scorch of Aznageel.

Below the sun his withered weasel scurries deep.
The streams of doom contrive to kiss his sculptured feet.
His raven legs all churned and ruined through towers of pride
Above the sun the princely guardian condor flies.

A beauty ruby fain it's worth twelve lives or more.
He stammers as he slugs over the staggered floor.
A chilled moment his dolphin eyes maul jewels of war
O joy the sunlit condor unearths Aznageel's door.

"THE FRIENDS"


0 Satyr come
and suck my thumb
'cos you're a little fawn
and you need me.

On hoofy feet
through the windy wheat
'cos you're a little fawn
and I'll feed thee.

Down the delly way
with your belly grey
I've some fruit and nuts
and a reed 0.

And I'll skip with you
in the midnight blue
and carve fluting pipes
for you to play on.

In the deeply dark
when the wolves loom large
I've a snuggly nook
'neath the meadow.

Where you'll sleep and be
curled and friends with me
through the evil night
till starling morning.

"SALAMANDA PALAGANDA"


Small girl with the smiling 'gibbon
Bridled with an orchid ribbon
His curved brow in Scarlatti fashion
Boots that ride the night sky eagle
An old crone squirms upon a cushion
Made from Madras silk and satin
Her steel eyes hold a scimitar passion
For the skull hewn in Scarlatti fashion.
A cobra seer with the punctured ear
Slaughtered a Malayan sun bear
Night stood erect with brozen haunches
Zapped the seer and gave the bear back to us
Salamanda Palaganda Oh Palamino Blue
Salamanda Palaganda June▓s Buffalo too In the Parisian zoo.