Upon the season’s sultry breeze
The lilac wastes her perfumed breath
While sunlight streams through trembling trees
To light the land of midnight death
The swallows sigh upon the wing
The swift and song thrush sing so soft
As eagle, on his throne, as king
Above the clouds soars safe aloft
And I, a mortal, dare to dream
Though I am quintessential dust
Beneath the sky I vainly scheme
As loins and limbs are laced with lust
But oh, my father, where are you
On this sad summer’s soulless day?
From bones now cold and steely blue
Does soul of yours still pine away?
Beside your long-neglected grave
I stand all statuesque and stare
As glimmer of the life you gave
Pours through my veins like pagan’s prayer
- Author: Blue-eyed Bolla (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: June 4th, 2018 08:30
- Comment from author about the poem: Basically, a lament for my dad, who died when I was a child.
- Category: Family
- Views: 38
Comments1
Very good lament. He is still with you though.
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