LII nonsense

I would sleep raveled up in poppies red,
All sporting cheshire grins up at the sun,
Perfumed air thick tangled round my head,
Clouds heaped above and hours quite undone.
Glint honey gold far down amongst dark leaves
Caked thick with bees and drowsing to their purr,
The pollen gathered up like barely sheaves,
In all the world the only thing that stirs.
All things with names crawl down between the stems,
Easily brushed away by languorous hands,
I do not want their words or stratagems,
I'd much rather stay here somnambulant.
   To dream in shimmers where warm breezes roam,
   Is easier than searching for my home.

Olive Trees: A Poem To Keep Warm

The hot shadows are pouring out from under the trees,
Draping themselves over tussocks and hollows.
We mirror them.
Peeling off clothing
Like dust scraped off of oiled skin,
Everything is found fresher underneath;
Rejuvenated and rejubilated
In the settling air,
The wondrous curve of limbs and twisting, artful trunks.
And we are damp against the baking earth,
The drone of crickets,
The quivering leaves.
The line of mountains softening into horizon,
The sky
Forged into beaten gold.