Sigil
A mystic sign tells
Of language ancient,
Where old ways did spell
A grandeur patient.
Once upon old rhymes
When love profound wrought,
There was a grand time
Of bright poignant lot.
Easy as the breeze
When touch was most pure,
Affluent days did squeeze
Fond souls and hearts sure.
Once again we see
Such strange sigil craft,
Watch what may yet be
As mystic breath drafts.
Now and here know this:
Beauty and truth scope,
Hint on endless bliss,
Love lives faith and hope.
Leon Enriquez
20 August 2017
Singapore
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