Poem

Portraits In Lavender

Tall stand the Mighty Trees
n'er bending to the Howling Winds
over the Far Horizon's Seas
where the World begins and ends.

Echoes amid the Stones there
sound the final Throes of Man.
Lest the Tempest regain beware
castles upon Shore's shifting sand.

Down on broken bended knees
faithless to the Rills and Fens
pleading for the end, the final Peace
the Survivor knows Destiny wins.

Seen through Portraits in lavender,
Lost Lore and the Magic of Man
burst brilliantly before him there
eyes blinded to the Outreached Hand.