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Debra Abohosh Poem
AS thy noble corona dilates,
Shucks back its great circle, let
Thy golden mean drip power
Onto the beast whose blameless flesh
Screams humped over,
Lathered like the Levin cracked sky
From whose seed was born
An infant God
Remind me Oh! Sultana
Whose spirit lifts my brow, and
Whose bright milk chisels
My livered throat, bloated
and waiting to yield to yet
Another salute.
I cry for Avalon, and those
Ancient borders I once possessed
Oh! Avalon, a composition for the carillon,
Let your chronicles forget me not.
Let your long drawn spell
Whisper me awash, gilded
Only by the mighty Griffon
fluent in the air, lord of sky,
Address my reproach my gentle God
Gift me unremitting paradise.
Copyright © Debra Abohosh | Year Posted 2006
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Details |
Debra Abohosh Poem
A great giant man vanishes from the face of the earth
No help for the hoarse throated cries of his lamenting wife
How will we remember his pastures, like a sea of green?
His children too small to gauze the torment of grief,
Yet how will we remember his sapphire hair and sepia face?
Stripped from the ash of his wall is concealed a hollowness
Felt by the saints, and one flickering, bitter, candle tenders
The execration of his passing.
That sacred sand in whose shadow I have gushed
Gives me pause for he who carried a pocket full of grace
And whose hallowed chalice must have touched the cells of heaven itself.
Oh! How can I reclaim you, restore you, repay you?
MY dancing mercies do not dissolve the blue veil which surrounds
The guilt and warm tears shed for him.
Mass upon mass, benediction upon benediction,
His name celebrated a thousand times
As unseen witnesses regard that great deliverance.
Old and exhausted but uncommonly kind
His white smiles have disappeared.
Without warning save presage from a little box of spells
Resembling many crucifixes on the wall,
And one great stone,
The sky opened up and took him
Like grey smoke rising.
Copyright © Debra Abohosh | Year Posted 2006
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