Sleet in the starlight, gray spires tilting
Under a new moon above the black moor
There on the breeze sad voices all wilting
Echoes fall flat from the hill to the shore.
Ice in the deep lake sheer as black glass is,
Reflects the stars as the sleet hammers home,
Sticks to the menhirs, sprouts where the grass is,
So stark in this gray lea here in the gloam.
Eons of spirits storm the tall spires
Under Arcturus and over the lake,
There in the dark fen mark the witch fires
That burn through the dead reeds, out of the break.
Hard by that shore the cold sea is sighing
For its lost sailors deep under the waves,
I hear the call of a lone gull crying
There on that dark shore where the ghost tide laves.
Sleet in the starlight, gray spires tilting
Under a new moon above the black moor
There on the breeze sad voices all wilting
Echoes fall flat from the hill to the shore.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Good morning Michael. It has been much too long that I stopped by and read one of your masterpieces!! I was not disappointed. You still remain at the top of my poets list. Your rhyming and flow asnd imagery are true perfection my friend. My favorite verse is.....
Hard by that shore the cold sea is sighing
For its lost sailors deep under the waves,
I hear the call of a lone gull crying
There on that dark shore where the ghost tide laves.
Thank you for sharting your amazing talent with us here. You have a wonderful day. It was a pleasure to read your poem. Take care
Sandy
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Superb
A most excellent write, as usual. Imagery, rhythm and rhyme are always just fine. This write reminded me of the Merlin legends*, and Charlotte Bronte's** various novels.
* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Merlin_(wizard)
** http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charlotte_Bront%C3%AB
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