When Clouds Upon the Summer Breeze All Rest

When clouds upon the summer breeze all rest And easeful, take upon their faery flight Into the paling crimson of the west Where noonday dreams wilt in the breath of night, I look into the east, and try to bear No more a single thought of gloom or tear For tangled comes my heart in wreathes of drear For seeing just the day lie on its bier. Up at the twinkling summer stars I gaze And far as any falcon, swift, may spy Lie constellations whose postures can trace A story of some wild ecstasy; A tale of unworldly days of yore When wine flowed free and through the earth did seep And Heracles stood tall and Phobetor Was purely myth to scare the young to sleep. And as I stare upon these stars, my eyes Close then and open to new morning skies. © 2014 Gleb Zavlanov