Los Angeles Poem by gershon hepner

When I set out to Angeles,
six thousand miles away,
my rhyme was on the spray,
and I was far from loneliness
when I set out to Angeles,
six thousand miles away.

What should bechance in Angeles
once I had traveled west
I hardly ever guessed,
nor did my wisest wife then guess
what would bechance in Angeles
when we both moved out west.

Together in Los Angeles
with wives who’re wise there’s magic,
yet sometimes something tragic
can lead to great distress,
both high and dry in Angeles,
pacifically pelagic.

Inspired by Thomas Hardy’s “When I Set Out For Lyonnesse”:

When I set out for Lyonnesse,
A hundred miles away,
The rime was on the spray,
And starlight lit my lonesomeness
When I set out for Lyonnesse
A hundred miles away.

What would bechance at Lyonnesse
While I should sojourn there
No prophet durst declare,
Nor did the wisest wizard guess
What would bechance at Lyonnesse
While I should sojourn there.

When I came back from Lyonnesse
With magic in my eyes,
All marked with mute surmise
My radiance rare and fathomless,
When I came back from Lyonnesse
With magic in my eyes!