"Whitsuntide" :: PresterJohn :: Original Poetry

"Whitsuntide"

While sounding tides that swell my heavy heart

For channels merged in memory’s silent sea,

On sudden squalls a Siren’s song imparts

Her wanton lilt and haunts my reverie.

Then storm clouds wind about my wavèd brow

And clap my dreams in storm-begotten skies,

Till pitching blindly, I’m at last allowed

A slip of hope you tender with your eyes.

For then, upon a shingled beach I land

(Where once I battled bacchantes all the while)

Now, starry winks bejewel the scalloped strand;

You’ve borne a trust of Beauty in your smile.

No longer need I sound in inflamed seas,

Since Grace that stills the firestorm harbors me.