Tuesday, April 4, 2023

Gives Joy Forever

Gives Joy Forever
© Surazeus
2023 04 04

The beautiful thing that gives joy forever 
passes into nothingness of the never 
so I wander in dark bower of dreams 
and sing with agony of sparkling streams 
to breathe despondent hope of gloomy days 
while searching for love in shadowy maze. 

When young girl in torn gown of helpless fear 
calls out strange name Endymion to my ear 
I catch her falling wounded in my arms, 
enchanted by stark beauty of her charms, 
so in safe haven of dark lakeside cave 
I heal her soul with song of the moon wave. 

Nestling her frail body with tender care 
on soft cushion from thick fur of the bear, 
I steer my little boat long quiet hours 
to bear her safe to vine-entangled bowers 
where honey bees escort us to cool hall 
hidden behind sheen of the waterfall. 

While she lies half-asleep beside warm hearth 
I gather fruits and herbs from sacred garth 
to brew sweet honey nectar with mushrooms 
that bloom from corpses of kings in dank tombs, 
then nurse her back to health with juice of love 
as we lounge together in apple grove. 

Each dawn when Iris wakes from hearty sleep 
she strolls like rainbow among grazing sheep, 
but when Zephyrus breaks down garden gate 
she laments unfairness of bitter fate 
for he killed her tribe to make her his bride, 
then runs away in anguished fear to hide. 

But mountain demon with hard cruel eyes 
declares her charges to be wicked lies, 
then claims her father sold her for lush field, 
yet I defend her honor with bronze shield, 
and wield sword to defend her liberty, 
fighting his greed for her right to live free. 

Just as Zephyrus raises sharp sword high 
to thrust avenging blade in my soft eye, 
brave Iris hurls jagged stone at his head 
which cracks his skull so he falls over dead, 
then we embrace with joy of victory, 
making love to cherish our liberty. 

The beautiful thing that gives joy forever 
wakes in eyes of our child whose soul will never 
suffer enslavement from esurient men, 
nor wander homeless in cold misty fen, 
for we gather by warm hearth of our home 
to record our story in family tome. 

No comments:

Post a Comment