Sibyl

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Often stories skyward told
Indignation constant our soul mould
Faithful rivers age and sooth
Promised lands in eyes gold
Whose indigo surmounted gloom
As scolded children in forest
Escaping wondrous perfume
To whistle blue, a thrush away
Defeated his cloak in bane
That maroon to being dissolve
Darker treasures in evening evolve
Permeating as if in echoes drenched
Forest to his fullness scavenge
Apparitions to each his word spent
And emit vapours holy all slopes
Risen sudden before the eyes
To mesh as composed in steam
Whitened moist her silver scream
Before the prince as made in wed
Mist in veil, her evening shed
Melded finest to pores in air
Thus the Prince upon his stare
Soot of the black in chase
Bewitched mortal to sage
Where maroon to silver fade
And molten spirits often parade
In cloudless that empty cage
All ears to lightning trace
Emptiness best in winter consume
As animated songs in sleep resume…

***

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