wb :

he sat, watching the children play
-long gone was the dolent day
on wings of wax, aflight in flames,
then smashed on a shoal of shames;
left night and wind, silent sisters,
where they walked but wisps and whispers-

alone and dimmed, without a ray
upon his seat of steel, he wrote
upon his paper, his pen he smote
he sat, watching the children play

he hesitated, in silence to pray
perhaps a song to sin and plight
perhaps a dirge to dark and night
-long gone was the dolent day

his honour but a roll of names
its flight a whim of wind and whiff
its flight a step off a cliff
on wings of wax, aflight in flames,

his dreams bedight and veiled in blames
besought a storm, which wept a well
besought a star, which shook and fell
then smashed on a shoal of shames;

and heart and soul two lonesome drifters
knew not where the river sped
knew not where the moonlight led
left night and wind, silent sisters,

in his house a hall of weepers
shades of love now pale and dim
shades of friends that stood with him
where they walked but wisps and whispers-

while he dreamed of death, despair, deceit-
the children played, and watched him sit.

Labels: poetry