The Night Sea
I want to breath again
beneath the mythic pond.
This presence blows the wind
And bares the dew soaked dawn.
The spirits sing from wells.
The earth’s throat opens wide.
They say what no man tells.
Their secrets dance inside.
The king is sleeping still.
His drawbridge dream released.
His knights ride Isis’ hill.
And dive her bluest seas.
His white deer fly through snow
To kingdoms no man’s known.
This is in iambic trimeter poem with the form of an English Sonnet.
© 2011 Stephen Pickering
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