He glides across the smooth lakes’ surface,

but she is nowhere in sight.

Stately he moves on ever through the night.

A moonbeam beckons to a hidden place,

where once they did dwell.

Fasted now! Maybe she lays there

and love again might they share.


But no earthly sign now, only pain.

Mute and no sound escapes.

The reeds and rushes lay empty.

An archer with arrows a-plenty,

has struck in her hearts’ place.

He follows the fading silver beam,

Upward toward the eternal light.


The lake is quiet now, now the swans have gone.

Once they sailed its wide surface, silent and free.

A ghostly presence is all that lingers on,

to remind us of what there used to be.

He searched for her, but alas, no trace, no sight.

Meshed together now mid the moons’ clear light,

his last song silent sung from deep within. 

Then, merging slowly with the mist, he fades from without.

From "The Journey: A Nomad Reflects."

For Sale at: https://www.amazon.com/dp/0692500944/ref=rdr_ext_tmb

Also for Sale:

Don’t Die with Regrets: Ireland and the Lessons my Father Taught Me.


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Tags: Poetry


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