Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

I who have dwelt long
 On the keeping of a vow,
That which is folded into 
  Steel --
And hammered and drawn --
The making and remaking --
Melded and beaten into one,     

Sat now pondering
 Upon all thus whence forged      
At the battles heightened 
  Pitch...
For where else do men
 Discover a truer kinship
Than when engaged in fierce 
  War?

Immersed in deep thought --
Mesmerised by glint and glare;
Drawn into the fractured glass               
 As a distracted man,
Ensconced at the bright 
  Hearths side,
Stares vacantly into flames.      

Images, memories;
A mind, pliable as water,
 Crowded with dead, long ago 
  Faces
Of those comrades slain...
For no promise ever made
 Was truly made unless kept.

My little craft stirs                  
 As rousing from idle dreams;
Shrill birdsong from woodland 
  Fringe,
Glib mallards laughing;
Incessant lap, lap, lapping,
Mist dissipates at lakes edge;

Prow swings slow about
 As if turned by unseen hands.
And out across the vastness,
This wide emptiness,             
Faraway voices calling...
Then gone like evening breeze.

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