To Helen From I Poem by Thomas Holderfield

The winds blow cold now o'er a dark Aegean sea,
waves languorously lap this red Ionian shore
where ruins of fabled Illium lie heaped upon the sands.
My fading mind wanders back to days of you and me,
down the dog-legged roads of yesterday
where ancient children dance and play.
Now songs are sung of our love; of our lore!
Our tales are told even in far and distant lands.

As I lie still (free at last!) near the sacred lake
down whose black river I must soon be borne,
I thought not of the thousand rotting hulks
nor their thousand captains haunting sunken reefs.
Nay, my last thought...my last effort...the last breath I take
is of you from whom I now am torn.

Even the great sea-god cries and sulks:
'Their love so great and true. A love beyond belief! '

Oh evil Solstice, what hath thy wrought?

Now your face, pale as the moon, has returned
to caress my soul and mind one last time.
Skin like ivory
white as the sun-bleached rocks of Thessaly!
Thighs like honey,
your muted cries...
as they lit the fires
upon my funeral pyre.

The black-cloaked criers...

The coins upon my eyes...

(mindbringer,21 June 2010)