| Leafy-with-love banks and the green waters of the canal | |
| Pouring redemption for me, that I do | |
| The will of God, wallow in the habitual, the banal, | |
| Grow with nature again as before I grew. | |
| The bright stick trapped, the breeze adding a third | 5 |
| Party to the couple kissing on an old seat, | |
| And a bird gathering materials for the nest for the Word | |
| Eloquently new and abandoned to its delirious beat. | |
| O unworn world enrapture me, encapture me in a web | |
| Of fabulous grass and eternal voices by a beech, | 10 |
| Feed the gaping need of my senses, give me ad lib | |
| To pray unselfconsciously with overflowing speech | |
| For this soul needs to be honoured with a new dress woven | |
| From green and blue things and arguments that cannot be proven. | |
