The Castle Of The King Poem by Richard Cronin

On the shores of night
At the edge of light
The poet weeps for his lost love
The old marble statues stand white
In the garden bright
Buttercups in dew against hedges of yew
She has left him amongst the bright flowers
Through the flowing of his tears
And the music of the spheres-he hears the angels sing
She has gone beyond the portal
To the castle of the king
With his face buried in the long uncut grass
The poet wept
And the sun of the coming day
Shone on his solitude