Finis Coronat Opus

Fair thoughts upon my mind do light And graceful brush my weary soul With touch as soft as feather white, And warm and bright as burnished gold. Through memories old they dance and leap And leave their glinting prints upon A heart long broken, deep asleep To caring stroke and comfort’s arm. But gentle breeze of brighter thoughts Stir so the sense of joy long past Within my bosom: warming hot Is gleam of Hope; long may Hope last!

Stand on your feet, you soldiers bold! Take hold your swords of steel, And face the the evil-shrouded foe With golden-crested shields. The battle’s yours, grasp hold the chance, And swift dispel the night Of hopeless thralldom, cheerless glance; Advance now forth the light! The rising sun behind you breaks In fullest dawn anew: Heed no more chance or luck or stakes; Take courage, men, be true! No foe so dark, nor powers grim Will stand against the light; For how can shadow cover them Who march in righteous might?

A crimson leaf in light of gold Soft flutters in the chilling breeze; The Summer’s green is growing old And soon enough shall take his leave. The sunlight clearer shines through boughs Of maple, oak and dogwood fair, To cast forth shadows all around,  Of wondrous form, o’er ground so bare. As trees shake off their vivid coats Despite the chilling zephyrs kiss, Their dancing leaves on breezes float And lend to Autumn fairest bliss.

In shade I wander, treading soft, As though I walked on cloud aloft, ‘Mid dewy grasses' chilling touch, Away from sunlight’s beam. In shade I wander, hiding face, Lest others should seek out my gaze And read upon my features there A chronicle of pain. In shade I wander, stepping slow, And pondering the ground below, As flow’rs and herbs caress my feet That now, so weary, are. In shade I wander, quite alone; No other mortal yet has shown Themselves within this dim-med place; They stay on lighter paths.

Dark roads stretch on, past vision’s sight, Through lands o’ershadowed, robed in night; No end of marching, wand’ring on This dreary path whence light has gone. Hope somewhere rests ‘neath glitt’ring sun, Where birds there nest and life’s begun To spring forth green from hardened ground; Oh! when may vision such be found? For tread I on this lifeless way, Where love is absent, joy’s away And pain and heartache’s cruelest grasp Steal ev’ry breath, yea, to the last.

As daylight fades in autumn skies And birds wing home ‘mid clouds on high, My sight is drawn to such a scene As mortal eye has often seen Yet glanc-ed o’er the setting fair And heeding only worldly care. Yon’ setting sun has cast his beam (So golden bright its colors seem) Against a stand of verdure tall That sends its shade to cover all; For tall indeed are oak and pine And beechwood, fir, and maple fine. The sunlight sets their leaves aflame, Like glist’ning fur on lion’s mane, Or armies bearing torch of gold, Their steady tread to thus embold: So lights the sun the forests dark And streams forth rays where timber parts. Tho’ shade enfolds the forest glade In gloom so drear of shadow made  (Yet mortal eye doth see it not, Unless it be with grandeur fraught); Yet beauty hid in darkness dim Is set ablaze at daylight’s end. Originally penned September 26th, 2018.

Once, I read a letter penned In dead of night, ‘mid howling wind, And tempest raging so in heart Of him who words on parchment marked. Such sorrow, pain, and gloom - alas! Did spring from paper, like a glass To cast again an image dim Upon my mind; ’twas truly him. His words were pained and aching so For light to break the dreary glow Of hollow hopes and shattered dreams; He sought the golden, sunlit gleam. This man did yearn for hope restored, For love’s requite and future’s morn, And in their absence, down his thoughts Plunged deep to darkened sea, distraught. My heart does break for such a man, Whose heart was true, and strong his hand; But shadows creeping stole his peace, And surest man is now the least.