I AM CRYING MY COMPASSION

Give me back a bit of nature naïve

Like love in the past in chime

Without having thru the path to weave.

Wisdom at present is for what

If not for my heart

To hesitate, waste the spring prime.

Give me back a bit of soul supple

With musing eyes dreaming of arms duple.

Better than now to calculate loss and gain

While time life would drain

And solely solitary I would remain.

Give me back a bit of self sulky,

Aimless, dreamy,

Quick to displease [to be sad]

But also quick to appease [to be glad].

I am crying this of my compassion;

Does anyone feel rue after my fashion?