And as you sleep, shall I not grieve
For lovers lost, magician's sleeves,
The torn and rampaged, destined flight
That left my shivers in the night?

O' come to life terrestrial being
Whose face doth haunt me on the ceiling
And once the maiden face laid bare
Her blood to bleed and grace to tear
Doth leave me trembling in the gore
Of battered limbs and then no more.

                    * * *

Winds that swept the worlds away
And left their tattered faces gray
Drank deeply from the dank and cold
To make me young and leave me old.

                    * * *

And so I stand on yonder hill
My body lies beneath my will
Face of ice, and hands like brick
No more this mortal web I stick.

                    * * *


copyright 1976, Betsy C.B.