Holy Grail

 Cats cry, or may be babies

Flats seize

The heart of me 

On stairs of level moors

windows clean and bottles blow

Meadows breeze, they stone the crows

In fields knees are boughed and bow

As peasants go gleaning up the rows

Corns stalks shatter and collide

In a kaleidoscope of sties

And pigs which scatter heads of corn

And all the merry month of June is born

Rising like a phoenix bright

From long summer lawns of flight

In equestrian gardens delight

The aristocracy keep the knight

At the table in the castle

For a white and sable parcel

Before him lies

A present disguised

But is this the Holy Grail?

What sunlight shifts, and cloud swirls burn

Like coffee cups

In auburn herbs

And marches of the armies come

Drum and trumpet played as one

Viola and the violin

The oboes, horns and tubas sing