Frederick Brock Poems

What pride, what passion.
Death from above.
Guild-ed Eagle lands high,
Near the home of the dove.
...

Sky blue eyes, laden with love,
the nourishing wardens of mater and healer.
Eyes filled not with malaise, tribulation, or pain.
but the envoys of tranquility, benevolence, and love;
...

Blue, black, gray,
These are the pigments of the night;
Cobalt, onyx and, slate,
A skewed rationing of this day's light.
...