THREE POEMS FOR JANE CHERON Doth not the World's great Alchemist Rule earth's alembic with the sun ? Is not the mind a foolish mist, And is not water one? The slim white body that you gave, Wild Jaja’, with exotic nautches Wanton and wonderful, a wave Of debonair debauches, Is worth the virgin limbs and lips Of her the virtuous, the viceless, With life who never came to grips, Who gave me nothing priceless. Give me the purity distilled From dervish sweat and satyr bruises. The Holy Graal with wine is filled From no unbroken cruses. Doth not the World‘s great Alchemist Corrupt His oysters to make pearls? Shall not these lips praise Him? They kissed No cold reluctant girl’s. Jaja’ hath woven the web of God From threads of lust and laughter spun. In heaven the rose is worth the rod ; And love as water, One. 47