Prayers and Psalms

“And when all is gone but our prayers and psalms
I’ll rock you in the cradle of my arms.”

Blushing in the first, dusty light of day
the pale artist of rosy fingered dawn
sprinkles spangled bands of hue and shade
Along the rambling rivers and verdant lawns.
Two figures wade in strident silence through
the haze of milk-mist rising to their knees
as if their words evaporated with the dew
or fell away from them like the listless leaves
that fall from the surrounding trees. The air is sweet
with musk and river dust and blackbird song
yet as the grasses kiss grey-booted feet
they pause, staring at the waters running along.

“He was scattered by this bosky stream,
But he often spoke of you in such ways
That I wondered if you were one of his dreams
A particle of light for the darkest days...”
His voice is rough as if unused, and soft
“I should have known him better after all.”
She lifts blue, Nordic eyes to his, so lost
That she forgets decorum and salt tears fall.
“He said that we were united in our feeling
And the electric dark could be left behind
Freedom, life was all that we were stealing
like invisible diamonds from the mind.

And when he left, left me so he could die
I found out his vows were simple, perfect lies.”

28 lines
Sonnet and Inversion