Encolpion xlviii.


The stars shall have to make the Sea,
the swords shall have to white the names
and the gulfs of Dreadful Things
open with the gall of flame

and all of them that esteem
the wild brass as rotten wood,
all the arsenals as steam,
will trample through the bright of blood

and gold like gasoliers
where the sky just disappears,
no volvelles stay and the crown is gone;
We move upon the deep
who alleles of ice can keep
and lorn the quiet doors all shining on.
           

                                                         [ Home ]

                           © Habley Mouse, a Private Press, 2012.  All rights reserved.  (Poetry by William Frank)
                                                                  (Also available from Amazon.com)                                            

               Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced,
               distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without
               the prior written permission of the author.