Broken Arch

Broken Arch The will of unfettered Moors it was Broke scattered amidst the hoary stems Ancient snow-white reeds they were Their bending heads Dismal conductors To the rank and rattle Of thundering skies To the awkward sonnet of winging geese She bent her head Tears of heaven In brunette braided rivulets Cling their sodden threads Forlorn Of white cotton summer dress And by the broken arch Where once the temple of kisses she met She sought to rest But no sanctuary there From the stammered storm of her wintered heart She bleeds her sorrow Into an empty cup The boys have gone a marching Down to the port Where the robbing waves Were gathering their steal In rank and file To beat out the drum of never more And return afloat on splintered wood Those heroes now of battles field Nothing now Save the cold kiss of stone In the fallen grandeur of an ancient church Nothing now But the rain filled font And the alter of sacrificed love Nothing but the old twist of Ivy To grip and hold her still And the dark lonely will Of the unfettered Moor Hears between the cracks and tombs Another anguished wail To scratch the laden clouds