Tonight, O ye poets of oldwhen the muse's voice seems a thousand nights away Be the lesser voices, still potent prove for me and my quill to be moved and swayedFor this soul needs stirringthe spirit must feel again...the blood of poetryflowing through the veins until pierced, there's ink enough that all voices are silenced
Tag: poets
Song of the Priestess (5)
My God's DecreeSay what was my God's decree but to writeto live out desire as His chosen scribeYet dreams of Elysium both day and night leave me still bereft of the sacred sightSo each verse turns to letters upon the airto draw him close, to have him nearwhom now as my quill's muse I recognise… Continue reading Song of the Priestess (5)
Shelley
A violent summer storm'twas said took him washed ashore, unrecognisedsave by a copy of KeatsO poet, your passion your rebellion I applaud'Mad' may you have been But you're one of my godsThe first to truly inspireto whisper straight to my soulyour words came to lifethe moment I held them close And though I may wanderI… Continue reading Shelley
Mad
Sing with me, and make merryThe skies are dancing proudSing, sing, and make merryWe are our dance and song What wild flames we embodyleap at life when we do dance when we sing of love and joyto the drumbeats of our hearts Sing with me, and make merry This earth must thump in blissto the… Continue reading Mad
What need have I…
What need have I to read the poetsThe Bard, those that preceded and followed him What need to sigh over their green hilled poesy What need to remark at their raging rhymeNone, oh, none,For my poet sings songs sweeter richer than every verse that flowered that blossomed over this Earth His pen mightier than their… Continue reading What need have I…