#oldreligion - Hello Poetry

. Frozen in rains, cloistering, So severe in the dark of day, Is the walled clutch of garden, No one escapes, a gilded reaper, Born of fears, promises beyond, Of joys on the oak nailed pews. Above the lost naves, who stand In worship to a ghost, bones bent, There are cast arches of old sorrows, Veiling the lighted eyes of the cosmos, Shutting out even mercies, heavenly Lights duly smoked of incense. And slated roof, so statuary cold, Of aged rock and moss under spire, That even the doves, as they coo Are grounded, up muted hollows, Chimes that merely echo guilts, By shadows of faithless pride. .

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Jan 15, 2020

Jan 15, 2020 at 4:08 PM UTC

ormond

Stone Chapel

. Frozen in rains, cloistering, So severe in the dark of day, Is the walled clutch of garden, No one escapes, a gilded reaper, Born of fears, promises beyond, Of joys on the oak nailed pews. Above the lost naves, who stand In worship to a ghost, bones bent, There are cast arches of old sorrows, Veiling the lighted eyes of the cosmos, Shutting out even mercies, heavenly Lights duly smoked of incense. And slated roof, so statuary cold, Of aged rock and moss under spire, That even the doves, as they coo Are grounded, up muted hollows, Chimes that merely echo guilts, By shadows of faithless pride. .

20

A dark wind bellows about Staining all of grey moors, The whole dire frozen sky, Shivers and dearly quakes, Let mine rag out over seas With clearest sails of eyes, Let me hear one bold stag, Stately shout in mossy bog, Let me fly with black of crow, Splash over the sodden sun, Free me from bane sorrows, Ancient Rowan trees who run, My love has left, sure as time, And tears are lost in frost hails, What will become of only mine?

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Jun 25, 2016

Jun 25, 2016 at 12:32 AM UTC

rainey-birthwright

Dark Wind

A dark wind bellows about Staining all of grey moors, The whole dire frozen sky, Shivers and dearly quakes, Let mine rag out over seas With clearest sails of eyes, Let me hear one bold stag, Stately shout in mossy bog, Let me fly with black of crow, Splash over the sodden sun, Free me from bane sorrows, Ancient Rowan trees who run, My love has left, sure as time, And tears are lost in frost hails, What will become of only mine?

15

Frozen in rains, cloistering, So severe in the dark of day, Is the walled clutch of garden, No one escapes, a gilded reaper, Born of fears, promises beyond, Of joys on the oak nailed pews. Above the lost naves, who stand In worship to a ghost, bones bent, There are cast arches of old sorrows, Veiling the lighted eyes of the cosmos, Shutting out even mercies, heavenly Lights duly smoked of incense. And slated roof, so statuary cold, Of aged rock and moss under spire, That even the doves, as they coo Are grounded, up muted hollows, Chimes that merely echo guilts, By shadows of faithless pride.

0

Mar 26, 2016

Mar 26, 2016 at 3:26 AM UTC

ormond

Stone Chapel

Frozen in rains, cloistering, So severe in the dark of day, Is the walled clutch of garden, No one escapes, a gilded reaper, Born of fears, promises beyond, Of joys on the oak nailed pews. Above the lost naves, who stand In worship to a ghost, bones bent, There are cast arches of old sorrows, Veiling the lighted eyes of the cosmos, Shutting out even mercies, heavenly Lights duly smoked of incense. And slated roof, so statuary cold, Of aged rock and moss under spire, That even the doves, as they coo Are grounded, up muted hollows, Chimes that merely echo guilts, By shadows of faithless pride.

18