Tailor Bell - Far Ponds

Far from the feast of nine delights
From full ponds lillied in shimmering light
And boastful gods in vineyard white
We whisper approaching dawn

Where trading men aggravated smile
Fragrant flocks of tittering doves
Join hands on high stairs while
Senators hurl their incisive air, here
Far from there we pray on

Cool sitting streams where librarians stand
Great pantheons of rich theatre reach
From markets of carpets and tables of fish
Berries and fruit of every color rest
Far memories loud trumpets sound

Fine dark and pale steeds stabled by breed
Near sheep covered hills we stand among
Sweet pearls never gone from the silent ranks
Far from there,
Far from here, unhilt
Our song

Far from the feast of nine delights
From full ponds lillied in shimmering light
And boastful gods in vineyard whites
Swords at the front, we leap
To far ponds
Far from the fight

Tailor Bell

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