At the birth of the day As a babe of the spray Like a white star, tangled and far, Tulip that's what you are. Warm and wise as a mute In the thunderbolt suit Princely and torn, grasping the horn Of the maenads of May. Sleepy dreaming of dark Silver Satyrs in parks Statues that say, worship the day For only humans you are. Channels churning the grime Inky dreams of our time Into the Sun, where the white one Poems them into a rhyme. On a hill the clear shrill Made the Titans most ill Angels abound, and I'm kissing the ground Thrilled to be around Vineyards spangled with love For the white dove above Green and lean from the waste Of the pastures of chaste Preciously he is whole. Twinkled eyes like a king Charted seas on your skin Like a White Star, tangled and far, Tulip that's what you are.
https://primoaccordo.net/bolan-marc/like-a-white-star-tangled-and-far-tulip-thats-w.htm