That’s waiting if the blooms will bow
To earth beneath this burden sweet,
Waiting if other worlds somehow
Its scent will wake to glowing heat.
I hold a cup within my palm,
That’s waiting for the lips of man,
I hold a cup within my palm,
I hold my heart, that overran.
THE SONG OF AN ADVENTURER
The home of my fathers was far, far away
(How far and how long ago, I cannot learn)
For lands that were steeped in a maddening fray,
Shattered and ruined in a desperate fray
For lands wasted thus, I no longer yearn.
When ’er I return I find ample proof
That I am a stranger in this new found home.
How strange all appears beneath the new roof,
Where people are huddled beneath a low roof
How strange and unkind the land I now roam.
The flames in my heart burn, fanned by a breeze
In a desolate chamber I am forging my shield.
I am longing to reach the realms of far seas,
Over the waves of strange stormy seas,
To strike at the elements and force them to yield.
When in my dreams the tempests I’ll face
Feeble with rapture I’ll toss on the slopes
Strange mystic hurricanes I will embrace
Mysterious passions I will embrace,
That do not mirror my unfathomed hopes.
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