Saturday, January 25, 2014

Of Bard and Battleground...

The battleground where wars are waged that only One can see
Can make or break the strongest bard in unformed poesy
The tear that never dims the eye, but burns the midnight oil
Slays legions only thought descries as enemies recoil

The sword where faith and hope takes wing would falter in despair
If want were satisfied with things and fate our only prayer
But peace and joy their gifts employ in kind simplicity
Its Giver helps us to destroy thought’s evil enemy

The rogues that bully branch and bush in winter-wild torment
Recruit allies to crush the soul in bitter, vile dissent
But, though the elements unleash their raging escadrille
Thought proves where its allegiance lies when battle-cries are still

The bard must bear, unlike the rest uncommon agonies
Sometimes the air cannot attest to heart-intricacies
Word-thirsty battle-cries reverberate without a sound
Where bard and pen must mitigate thought’s brutal battleground

© Janet Martin


Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed!