Kypria

Hades Moon

with 3 comments

At last, the blessed night draws down,
Like velvet cold on fevered crown,
No Lord of the apple towns, I,
No darling heir of hop-frames high,
This darkling manor, none of mine,
I trespass from an Eastern shore,
Outcast by the witch-queen’s war.

Far-off the flares of my demise,
Magisterial dark oaks rise,
I am the hapless Pauper King,
In teary-eyed lament of spring,
At peace with every bitter thing,
No prophet’s shine about my head,
‘Tis filled with dullard thoughts instead.

And then I, drunk on nothing left,
Except this shameful heart bereft,
Of hope; cold under black abyss,
And clutch at gates and almost miss,
The beating at the heart of bliss,
And return’d to halls, thrice content,
Shut out the  peasant horde’s lament.

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Written by Jem Neal

August 28, 2008 at 12:55 pm

Posted in Transits

3 Responses

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  1. I like this: “At peace with every bitter thing”

    nray

    January 28, 2011 at 5:02 pm

    • Thanks Neeti. You’ve been (bravely) writing this sort of thing for a long time. Which is yet another reason why I admire you so.

      chirotic

      January 28, 2011 at 8:26 pm

      • It’s very kind of you to speak of your work in the same sentence as mine.

        I don’t know how I get the courage to hit “publish” for my poems………but then Sun-Jupiter in Leo-Aries can be so naive. Like a child in the kitchen who says, “I made this! I made this!”

        Hope you’re well. xxx

        nray

        January 29, 2011 at 2:56 am


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