Maypole Couplet

The imagination keeps reaching out for what can not be said…

The wordlessness thickens in May, burned on the eve in every fire lay.

Star, teepee, lean-to, pyramid set ablaze only to wake into a floral haze.

Ribbons and bows, ribbons and bows weave in and out, circle the pole.

If ever there were a perfect spring day to throw open the windows,

fall into a trance, and not wake until midsummer night's dance,

today is that kind of day. Radiant baskets, buried eggs, swarm of bees,

three milkings, first strawberries, the lunar flower sets everything free! 

Water jar aquarids, fickle rains, and frog moon released on the cool breeze.

Run with the hares, crown the queen of Walpurgis with sheddings of ponies.

topper of peonies, nosegay of lilacs, rose petals of Mary's tease,

bouquets of sweetness and laughter, pelted with vicia and lupine,

to abide in the most ancient use of words here on the grass of the divine.

coup in couplet:

Hands off! Oh, peaceful resistance strike. This is no time to lie down.

We, the many of one movement, the whole world against a few clowns.