Read Poem: SHIPWRECKED, by John Gillevet

Oh, where, Oh, where do the cold winds blow.
Tis’ wayward the tattered sails sway.
Through milky sea swells and shrouds of fog rolls.
On a brisk and dreary mornin’ May.

Alas, Alas, The misty veil recedes.
To reveal a moss strewn shoal.
And luscious green dales of dew covered reeds.
Where gleams a proud warrior shard in gold.

What tales, What tales of magic and might
And great deeds of heroes of old.
To inspire and spark shining bright light.
In the darkness of a fractured lost soul.

To garlands, To garlands of magenta and white.
Braided in unlinked circlets of fine down.
For a grand feast wedding on a midsummer’s night.
Of a proud warrior and lost princess now found.

Swept away, Swept away, the withered leaves swirl
Over hawthorn strangled crags of ashen gray.
Where worn, tear stained eyes of an ancient, young girl.
Drowns sorrow by a waxed, moonlit bay.

For afar, For afar the proud warrior sails.
To carry crosses to distant young lands.
With empty oaths and dark tales, the gold shard does pale.
A glimmer of light still rests in God’s hands.

Buried deep, Buried deep under snow frosted oaks.
The flame still gleamed and flickered bright.
And despite burning forge of lyon’s heavy yoke.
Golden berries still bloomed forth undying light.

Shattered dreams, Shattered dreams on a shipwrecked coast.
Where the tattered, worn sails still stand.
Like mourning, haunting wails of fair maiden’s ghost.
Over a tired and bloodstained land.

Torn truths, Torn truths of romance and travails.
And worn out garments of days forlorn.
For what festive reels or a poet’s tall tales
Can best what proud warrior and fair maiden once born.