ADJURATIONS by Charles Ward

With tend’rest adjurations
I bid thee sweetest words
Com’st thou not to me dripping
Mocking my desire with dour Insipidity

Such be thy saccharine ways of trickery
When we the broken mortals
Wrest and quench creations dream
To leave it fallow laying dieing

In the charnel house of lies.

I hear your whispers
In the rustling leaves in fall
I hear your voice
In the sound of falling snow

I watch and see the shimmer
Of your face in the dancing tides
When the waters are still
Meeting mingling balanced in the dawn.

Come now walk with me
Teach me the ways, hidden
and obscure
Lest I fall and crash again
On sharpened stones of arrogance.

To close to the fire I flew
Of that presumptuous Sun
Then broken crashed with melted waxen wings
On sharpened jagged stones

Poisoned by my self destruction
I lost my self my soul the Words
And thus for a blinded time
I in pity wept and cried in pride

Now now I ask for your return
That from your challice I might sip
And rest in Prometheus’ gift.