An extract from my epic poem Kalamand, available on Amazon. See my book links.
And late at hour, by rippling roar Of waters lapping 'neath the tor, A figure bathed in lunar light Who smiled and turned upon my sight. And beating wings above the wight, The somber creatures of the night. And as the stars about him played, A sad embrace he gently made. "If I were 'cross the seas again, in climates fair or poor, I'd still be where I've always been, sailing by the shore." He my sire and I his daughter, Far across the fretting water, Far across the sea.
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