I cast my mind back blithesomely, across the time that I have known,
The waking hours I’ve spent within a garden, that my Goddess showed.
I held a dream for many years, of life beyond coercion, of this I cleave.
A simple vision of my ecstasy.
Not rich in concrete ways of life, but rich in life itself.
To strive to be the poem, devotedly composed.
So rich that I may couch this exaltation, on those who would assuage me.
To raise one child, within this blessedness.
This dream I caused with one apportioned to my life, an undevoted wife.
A wife so unremitting to her self esteeming ways, which I endured,
To keep alive a love I felt, that she would misappropriate my adoration
Without recompense.

And I away to Iona’s shore, to seek this path, this open door.
Which at such time should guide me forth from wretchedness
Towards my vagary.
T’was there upon this fateful night, my eyes declared a genial sight.
A sight which held affinity, Coerced by holy trinity,
Appeased my forfairn eyes.
A friend! My senses did declare, who held so many congruous ways,
to mine, in these, my later days, of loves etiolating dream.
At length her voice conversed with me, in ways so unrecalled.
Her tongue was not my native own, but dared allure my intellect,
And I in solemn retrospect, disparaged her intent.
But still her soul with soft content, did trust to take my song, and forward
With encouragement, our Anchluss did delight.

Upon return to England fair, I grieved a doughty loss.
For viduous hearts abided there, and all was distanced that I cared
My reverie emerged.
The wretchedness did cultivate, and tenderness procrastinate,
Crestfallen and disconsolate, my fancy to retreat.
With one cessation, derivation, passes to the fore.
As I in all my intellect and education thought,
My hearts entreat, should now be sought with fervour,
And delight.
Though sadness at my grieving loss would wake me
Sharp at night.

And so, to Cornish coastal Kraal, with bitter scorn still pealing loud,
Hard within entangled brow, my acolyte approached.
And cheek by jowl, we follied there, a heart so full, a soul so fair.
My infamy did couch this time, and oft indite a cruel rhyme,
Upon her ivory brow.
My ill versed mind could not avow, a love of such untimely need.
How I lament those moments now! To gaze upon loves perfect seed.
Too often did I gaze within, neglecting distal realms,
For there stood loves sweet reckoning,
Which pride oft overwhelms.
My thoughts were of an ancient love, who once had held me long.
My own fair bride, my kindred dove, who sang so sweet a song.
Alas! This love no longer be, and wistful moments,
Rest with me.

A spectral time did then descend, upon a solemn heart.
Our time was drawing to an end, too soon did love depart.
And I to face the bitterness, that realisation brought.
I looked to sun kissed tenderness, for all my heart had sought.
Too soon, I turned within myself, Too soon I turned again.
The spinning of a mind began, my thoughts,
So oft insane.

So I returned to loves sweet shore, and there recaptured life.
My heart was torn with love left sore, so lost within my strife.
She couched my heart, so literary, with words so distant now.
For I could not release my bonds, nor break my sacred vow.
So oft betwixt, and then then between, I agonised lifes breath,
And prayed to Brighid as my queen, to favour me my death.
A love in distant voices spoke, of lifes deep rooted need,
But I was caught, in times refrain,
Which caused my heart to bleed.
Confusion bade me keep her faint, not share with me lifes path,
But bid me time to move lifes phase, and ease,
Loves bitter wrath.

Once more behind those iron gates, I searched within for life,
But sad misfortune, sat in wait, and oh so odius wife.
No tenderness at my remorse, but none to charge save I,
For I, in fear of recompense, had lived six moons benign.
I could not recognise the love, which lay within my heart,
I could not bring this death to be,
And in my sadness part.
But death pervades, it cannott turn, a new birth must emerge.
T’was only grief within my heart,
Lamenting love’s sad dirge.

And now the light Arthuan rides, towards a golden dawn,
And I must join the song of spring, and welcome in that morn.
A bitterness on every bough, which on this tree doth grow,
Shall soon be hidden by new bud, as all well versed do know.
But in my sadness I reflect, my ignorance, beguiled,
Remembrance of a warmth that came,
From every smile she smiled.

Lines first composed in Spring1995, the poem followed the course of events which ensued the Authors return from Iona, and the Poem was completed in the following year.

Maélwys /|\