Great Waves Of Mists Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

There were
Great waves of mists
And celestial body dust
Passing
As the rains fall
They moved throughout
The heights
In rhythmic dance
In uniformity:


There were the nights.
These were
The thrills.
The waters stood
Transfixed
Dancing round
Castles:
The salt was fresh
So
Fresh
You would wipe it at
Your mouth.

There must be
At least
And there was
The at least.
Furniture and waters
Blew niter
they were
of heaven and
they
were
of earth

O happy sloth
Dreamer
Of empires
Genesis of
Tongues
Of prophecy
Then
Firmer tongues:
philosophy/

Till science do us
Part
They became
One of it
Too.


Shuddered the teeth
As
Trails and silhouettes
Of ghosts and
Lovely shades:
Glades plush and slothful
There was here
Marion, I saw her
With half her teeth,
A maid,
Left on the shop rack,
So to say cruelly,
Yet
Still so beautiful cunningly!

There was still a tree
That in the garden
Had not resigned
To rest
On it a
Whole orchestra of
Birds
Sounded
Played
Still
Still
Still.

It was
The tree of nightingales
The tree of owls not
Singing
But utterers of wise
Saws:
Other birds gathered
Though
Not so numerous as of
A kind:
Around the garden
Stretched
Its perimeter of lamp-posts
Round stood the houses
And
They were clanking.