Gardener of toys

I plucked my flower,

I plucked her right;

I drank her moisture

And wetted her thigh.

Before I went home

with her sad eyes

she told me not to:

I waved goodbye.

For always there is

one flower more.

One pixie laughing

for good candor.

Farewell then, flower.

And farewell love.

Perhaps tomorrow

You’ll be my doll.

Finished on 11-27-03