Martyred and thrown like lost fruit to the sea
'mid swallow and wave, where angels did weep,
as pith and purpose pealed pride...to fall free--
to bed of all dead, for stone tomb to keep.
Dry gaps gathered grief between long parades
as segments of space tied saints round soft skin;
Clement claimed coffin of six citrus shades,
while tides parted wide to let mourners in.
Solstitial strengths squeezed edible ends,
whilst evergreen echoes sought anvil's arms
and juniper joys found fragrancy's friends...
near anchor of peace...'neath wings without harms.
Zest buried beliefs beneath roots of trees,
as saints supped on solace...under soaked seas.



Thank you so much for entering and best of luck to you in the contest... Scott 





Love it! Well written.



27 old applause
