Friday 30 December 2011

TO THE ANCIENT MELODIES


O holy muse haste and steal my soul
lead me in love on arcs of jade
so I may gaze at high fauns blest
who strum the harp to craft deep code.
A red mist veils runes honed in jet
I clasp my sage; he bids me kiss
the lofty art tinged with rims of gilt.
'O hark glad news; a lamp bears pax'
the pure words ring for God's own Son.











1 comment:

  1. What a poem!!! This is magical, I think this might be my favorite.

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