Within the fires are the spirits
The gong upon our anvil
As such arms can only be made in Heaven.

Of various persons each known to his part
Distinct are the Poet and the Dreamer
And so I was Gods ape,
Piety so chaste
I hold it half a sin
Entering the cold broken world
Thus Adam lamented to himself aloud.

"No coward soul is mine
What will come at last too soon
For honour bit-wize travels
Unwinking on this fair ship 'Life'".

But there was resistance involved
The swift blazing flag of regiment
As bare as a birds tail
To make a clean breast
The iron entered my soul.

I pray you
The earthly bribble-brabble
A veil for the glory of Angels
Lest evil tidings to utter
To turn and face them
And see ones self
Not to be lost but by the makers hand.




ELEETE J MUIR

The driven accent of
The orison which
Suffering seraphim cajole
Yields to time and
Time is period
Till judgement breaks
And those lyrics remit
A weeping invocation of
Eternities requiem
Fore all beauty is a
Mirage to sordid souls
And graces respite is
Found in paradise;
O' death- the master juror
Resounding the short-shrift of
Heavens immortal scripture
Amidst earthly violence
Singing humanities
Everlasting hymn.




ELEETE J MUIR

In dark tempestuous night
One that held acquaintance with the stars
And the waxing gibbuos moon
Alone with good angels
On the wide landscape
But to scribble poetry
Beneath the wide heaven
And mend my rhyme
Upon the surface of the universal earth
In the deep wide seed of misery
As in that trance of wonderous thought I lay,
Will it come with a blessing or a curse?
After so many deaths I live and write
Till that divine idea takes a shrine
Go! write your lovely sketches
From dull oblivion
The restlessness of pain,
Eighteen lines! A statement of life-
Hush! Fail I alone in words and deeds
What does it all mean poet?
The verses, the ciphers and twiddlings
Thou art tired; best be still
Ah! the sacred silence of a blank untarnished page
And the requiem of the wordsmiths pen.
Am I but a sad name?




ELEETE J MUIR.