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
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