Joseph Mary Plunkett

(21 November 1887 – 4 May 1916 / Dublin / Ireland)

The Lions - Poem by Joseph Mary Plunkett

Her hair’s the canopy of heaven,
Her eyes the pools of healing are,
Her words wild prophecies whose seven
Thunders resound from star to star.

Her hands and feet are jewels fine
Wrought for the edifice of all grace,
Her breath inebriates like wine—
The blinding beauty of her face

Is lovelier than the primal light
And holds her lover’s pride apart
To tame the lions of the night
That range the wilderness of his heart.

Comments about The Lions by Joseph Mary Plunkett

  • Mohammed Asim Nehal (5/28/2016 3:49:00 AM)

    Superb poem with great imagery, Thanks for sharing.10 (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Friday, May 25, 2012

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