'Twas a time when.....

                                 

‘Twas a time……

‘Twas a time when the sun did shine,
And it filled:
The wide blue yonder with many a bird song;
The bosoms with green desires-
To vie with and soar like the white waves;
And to be the beloved ballad of bravery,
Which the rufous lips of the marooned mariner
Would never cease to sing

‘Twas a time when the angels did weep-
When the grass lost its greenishness,
To reddish gore and blackish blood;
The former- the cursed gore of heroes, who
Spilled or tried to spill the latter’s-
The beast’s blood-
Who smiled on overhearing the heroes’ dirges.
Yet:
‘Twas a time when men were men,
‘Twas a time when the heavens did acknowledge.

Yes: ‘twas a time when the amateur poet,
Wrote of nature, and of courage, and of songs-
For he had the power to articulate his world.
Oft when he espied the rising sun,
He would wish to be the mighty centaur;
And as he wished, he would write-
On wishes, and horses, and beggars
And seldom in unfortunate siestas,
Would see the future-present.

‘Tis a time and the sun doth shine,
But it inspires no lark to sing a stirring song.
A human heart which once had a desire:
To be brave, and which desiderated justice,
Now has a desire for green, and wishes to behold:
A castle of specie and a dying song:
To speak of money and of corrupt “systems”

‘Tis a time, and,
Angels do not weep.
The grass is not green.
Heroes do not die or fight to live like men;
The Devils haven’t changed- they keep smiling.

‘Tis a time when the amateur poet
Writes of dead men, and of politics, and of threnodies;
For he hath the power to articulate his world.
Oft when he descries the drowning sun,
He wishes to be the omnipotent octopus;
And as he wishes, he writes-
On wishes, and horses, and beggars.
And seldom in fortunate siestas,
Sees the golden past, and writes a new poem:
“‘Twas a time when....”