photo: Stephen Alsford
| home page | list of works |
|
Stars sparkle eyeward on a summer's eve, The moon is full, the heavens velvet-deep; Beneath the sable firmament there stalks A half-light whereby shadows walk And shadows sleep. On feet-worn pathways, parting elm and birch, Carving through woods a gently winding trail, To pass: fear neither hostile act nor word; No watchers there the night disturb, Our passing veiled. Time's ocean stilled, almost (for distant cars, Sweeping down open highways, bring to mind Waves breaking on a pebbled beach); all seems Suspended in a land of dreams, Vague, undefined. A cloak chiffon o'erlays the city-scape, Subdues those colours soon by dawn made known In fuller splendour. Then before us looms A beacon that outshines the moon – Your beckoning home. Under the midnight sky's impassive gaze, Whose twinkling stars cast jewels in your eyes (Eyes sparkle starward on a summer's eve), Perfect to come and perfect leave- Bidden goodbyes. To speak of this were not to speak at all; To reminisce in ink must make a thief Of mem'ry – living coral, stolen, turns To stone – yet deep within the image burns, And I must speak. |
| (1982) |
|
photo: Stephen Alsford |
| Created: November 17, 2014. Last modified: March 16, 2015 | © Stephen Alsford |