“ The Dark of Limbo ” ~ begs a morrow ~

I reach for her
Tho well I know
‘Tis but a shadow
I shall find,
I call her name
And hear awash
Its echoed sound
Implying limbo’s tide
Has carried it beyond…

In shades abutting dark
I barely see her face,
As I endure await
An end to limbo’s fate,
Thus beg that morrow
Finds an escape,
Where she may reach
The end of sorrow,
Beyond the dark of limbo!

Advertisements

“ Now You’re Here ” ~ too soon you’re gone ~

 

Now you’re here,

Tho far too soon

You’re gone,

Leaving no reason

To the surrounds,

Save suggest year

Had but one season

Rather unclear,

Seen fulltime grey

With baleful demons,

No longer able

Kept at bay,

And so fate chose

You disappear,

To not extend

You suffer appear,

Another morrow’s day!

 

“ Survival ” ~ no time for sorrow ~

 

The day of the hunt

Be the squeal of a seal,

Who’ll reach for a hand

Of a starved dying man,

With no choice to save

Or let live with a wave,

That another day gives

Either creature to live,

With no time for sorrow

Nor sealer to borrow,

Holds he must stride

To hunt many hides

Or shan’t morrow survive,

Nor halt downward slide

Of living the narrows,

For yesterday’s bread

And a roof overhead,

Man has no guarantee

From fated seal barrow,

Nor survival ahead

Tho finds his way back,

Before all freezes over

And frost has him dead!

                                                                ode to perished sealers,

                                                                of Newfoundland’s 1914