verse for a shallow fable

Fallen from the dreaming tower
wand’ring in my sleep into that
jungle where an idle hour
teaches more than sightless years awake.

Errant captains lose their mark on
shores of distant stellar beaches,
wracking solar winds from crowns gone
cold and still, forgetting youthful wrake.

Be the theory of my conscience.
I am past distracted missing
gentling hands, and freezing instance
slips through fingers of the grief I make.

Should I roam the wondrous waste, still
you the shadows hold in rev’rent
breath. And in far spaces I will
keep you close and cannot bear to break.

To endark in spir’s supernal,
molds of mid-Americana
never there to want. Infernal
wanting emptiness I now forsake.

Advertisements

~ by Paul Pham on 24 January 2007.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: