This is a poem about my current feelings written in a whimsical style with great imagery. Those who know my life story well will understand what I mean to say in this poem.
There is a little isle amid bleak seas –
An isolated realm of garden and bliss,
It circled round me by view and sound,
Devoid of empery to master these.
The memory of its streams and flowers,
Borne to the tempestuous waters of mind,
Recalls its soul to that delightful ground,
But serves no beacon towards my fates.
It is a refuge from all the stormy days,
Breathing the peace of a remoter world,
Where beauty, like the caressing sun rays,
Enfolds my spirit in its silver haze.
This isle is wrapped in dreamy mists,
Almost surreal, without stars or sun,
Like trumpet-voices during love trysts,
Too far away to be embraced or seen.
The heralds of life utter tidings of the deep.
But I slumber, too weary, and fall asleep,
Visions shall come, incredible hopes from far –
And with passion shatter the bonds of sleep.
