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Jonathan ROBIN

(22 September / London)

Magic Charm's Promised Land


I've further trekked than sunny Spain,
Greece, Oslo, Cairo, Rome,
to the Marquesas, back again,
praised sunsets polychrome.
From Newfoundland to Winnipeg
in Canada ice cold,
Atlanta, Phoenix, Vegas leg
adventured U.S. bold,
yet ne'er before soul sought to gain
new found land underneath starred dome
than when eyes glanced at eyes again
discovering safe home.

On oceans free from tummy pain
I've braved storm winds' flecked foam,
yet never seen such comely reign -
more sweet than honeycomb -
as sapphire [e]Yes which melt will, brain:
the subject of this po'm,
the dream of men since Abel, Cain,
wherever, when, they roam,
Time’s sting retains no mortal pain.
as roads return to Rome,
as serendipity sheds rein
as barricades dissolve,
hope homes to roost free from base bane
as questions answers solve.

Much have I travelled overbold
through rea[l]ms of coloured dreams,
with insight sought what can't with gold
be bought - of light's pure beam
the essence and delight, behold!
In iris fair there gleams
both past and future forward bowled
with incandescent steam,
an energy so long foretold -
hope which to hope did seem
lost, lost until her fire did fold
my heart in fee, I deem.
Here eyes surprise sighs hot and cold,
can Paradise redeem!

For centuries adoring throats
sing praise, seek golden band,
pursue frail grail, or sow wild oats
while countless grains of sand
are ground by time and tide whose boat
so many lives must strand.
Yet one to whom all would devote
existence, faith refanned,
in Nice and Montreal fresh coat
lends - spritely saraband.
Above dark Lethe she shall float
Time’s stings, bark’s rings withstand …

For centuries wise scholars wrote
about some promised land,
they’d often reinvent, misquote
pale rumours secondhand.
For centuries kin[gs] kin[gs] have smote
to win vain beauty's hand,
if these could be reborn their vote
unanimous would stand
for magic charm on whom all dote,
they'd fail to understand
why they beforehand cared a groat
for others with praise bland.
These rhymes remove doubt's overcoat -
spontaneous, unplanned.

Submitted: Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Edited: Friday, January 21, 2011

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