Relief

Old songs sounding bittersweet,
we're tuned in, omens foretold,
our symphony incomplete,
sightless souls in gold enfold.

Leaf of fortune, wondering,
the tortured heart craves relief,
mad mobs of doubt thundering,
dark dreams drown in a tealeaf.

Longing for love; quickening,
God's miracles rush along.
Heavenly plot thickening,
answers to prayers, lifelong.


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The Ae Freslighe - A Gaelic verse-form
is made up of from four-line (quatrain) stanzas
Each line is seven syllables.
Line one and three have three-syllable rhyme
Line two and four have two-syllable rhyme
Line four ends with the first syllable word in the first line