If you decline...

When you decline
Drops of honey and dews
That usually paint those forest pines...
With forbidden taste...

When you ask me not to shake
Those leaves of autumnal mistake
On you by any far fetched chance...
I get the sense of your heart
How it throbs...in fits and starts...

How then can I move through streets?
How then can I tell you all those images that I meet?
How can then I show you how birds build nests...
And how in green grass mist its refuge takes?
And how sometimes by lunar brush
Paintings are unveiled on placid water such?

If you really decline
Drops of water on eyes mine...
How can I to you send
Tears of joy that once me you lent?


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